Stages
by Drowned-dreamer
Summary: When Emma disappears, a desperate hunt for her begins. After a dream sends Henry and Killian on a mission to find Merlin, their relationship will be put to the test. Meanwhile, Emma struggles to find enough hope inside her to keep the Dark One at bay. With her family in danger, will she give in to the dark? Can Killian find the strength to be the hero they need? Season 5 AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Hello, I'm back again with another multi chap fic! I really wanted to write a story about Killian and Henry's evolving relationship that I want to see happen in Season 5. Also, I really want to see Killian come into his own as a hero. Plus, the whole Merlin/Camelot thing has been a lifelong obsession for me, so I really wanted to do something with that. In this story, the Darkness works a little bit differently than I've seen in other stories (think possession, not submission), this will become clearer (I hope) as the story goes on. Also, even though he views him as a friend, I don't feel like Henry's quite ready to embrace Killian as a father just yet. I think there is a lot of external and internal issues they both need to work through, so their relationship will be a bit rocky for a while.**

 **I will try to update regularly, but I'm not sure yet just how often that will be. The story should run somewhere between 20-30 chapters, depending on how long I end up making them.**

 **Summary: When Emma disappears, a desperate hunt for her begins. After a dream sends Henry and Killian on a mission to find Merlin, their relationship will be put to the test. Meanwhile, Emma struggles to find enough hope inside her to keep the Dark One at bay. With her family in danger, will she give in to the dark? Can Killian find the strength to be the hero they need?  
**

 **Relationships: Killian/Emma, Killian/Henry, and a smidge of other canon relationships.**

 **Rating: M for language, violence, dark themes (potential smut)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from OUAT. **

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_"Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them."_  
 _― Leo Tolstoy_

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 **Chapter 1: The Stages of Grief**

 _STAGE 1—DENIAL_

She was gone. A terrible thought, to be sure. But not as terrible as the other thought that kept pushing at the back of his mind. The thought that said that not only was she gone, but she was…different.

 _Gone_ he could handle. _Gone_ meant he would go after her, stop at nothing until they were once again reunited. _Gone_ was familiar. But _different_ meant something far more terrible…

His mind wouldn't allow him to even recall the flash of her name on that dagger.

He couldn't.

Not now.

Not when she was absent from his side, when she wasn't here to roll her eyes at him, frown at his jokes, smile at his…

Not when she had held his hand so tightly over her heart, her body trembling with fear and purpose. Not when she had looked at him with tears blurring the green of her eyes, and had uttered those three words that had both saved him and damned him.

 _I love you._

She might be gone, but he would be alright because he knew, like he knew the wide, changeless ocean, that she wasn't gone completely. She was just _out there_ …waiting for him. And he would find her, he would bring her home (again), and then they would finally have their happy ending.

So he told himself when he found her, she would be fine. She would still be Emma. Because he needed her to be. Because she was strong. Because she _loved him_ …

(The whispers in the back of his mind told him a different truth. They laughed at his naivety, his stupidity. Did he really think things would be that easy? That when he found her she would run into his arms? That she would tell him that she loved him and they would break the Dark One's curse with their true love? What made him worthy of a happy ending?)

Even though he tried, Killian soon realized there wasn't enough rum in the world to shut out those whispers forever.

 _STAGE 2—ANGER_

David had a black eye. That was when Killian knew that he had entered his old familiar stomping grounds of bitterness and self-loathing. (But really, the man should have known better by now than to try to take away a pirate's rum.)

Killian would have been happy to wallow here in the black pit of despair. He could almost convince himself it was a comfort, after all, to be back where he belonged. But it didn't feel like a comfort. It felt like a curse, his heart cold and stony, and a sneer always upon his lips. Not when he could so vividly recall what it felt like for that heart to feel alive with passion, to beat with fervor and happiness.

It was Emma, after all, who had saved him from the darkness, from the endless grief and pain. How could he go back there? How could he dishonor her memory like that?

But the anger he felt couldn't be contained. It wasn't rational, it wasn't reasonable. It was the deepest expression of his soul. Inflicting pain on others was just the easiest way to not have to deal with it himself. But sometimes the emotions were just too much, and he just needed a way to vent before he went completely mad.

Luckily, David seemed to understand.

 _STAGE 3—BARGAINING_

They had given him the dagger at first. He couldn't believe that they had trusted him with it. He tried desperately not to use it, but as the days went on and she didn't come back, he gave into to temptation and summoned her. She didn't appear. Not that time, or the next, or the next. Eventually, his pain became too great, the distractions became too few, and minute after minute he took to staring at the thing, his fingers stretching out, itching to call her again and again and again until she would appear. Anything for just a small sign that she had heard him calling.

Thankfully, her parents put a stop to that. Because he loathed himself for what he was doing, even if she didn't answer, there was no worse fate that he could think of for Emma than to always be under someone else's command. She didn't deserve that. So he begged them to take the temptation away, and they did so, agreeing that no matter what, the dagger should be used to summon her as a final option.

It didn't stop the ache, though. The need. Not having it within his sight had made it somewhat bearable, but his entire being still ached with her absence.

With a droll sense of irony, he finally understood the appeal of having magic. What he wouldn't give to open that time portal again. What he wouldn't give to be able to offer up himself in her place. There was no barter too big and nothing he wouldn't sacrifice if it meant Emma's return.

(If only it were as easy as trading away his ship.)

 _STAGE 4—ISOLATION_

It takes Henry to find him. At first, he had managed to stay away by keeping to himself aboard his ship, even resorting to taking it out into the harbor so that no one could get near. But they always found him. David and Mary Margaret. Robin. Belle. Even that ponce, Will, had tried to comfort him.

That's when he knew he needed to change tactics, hide in a place where he could be alone, where the constant assault of memories of her smile and her soft, warm scent didn't haunt his every thought.

It was Henry who found him last, and he had no idea how he had done it. But it was Henry who reminded him of what she would have wanted for him, who reminded him of who he was. And what he needed to do.

 _STAGE 5—_ **_ANGER_** _and Acceptance_

After pulling him out of his hiding place at the abandoned fishing cannery by the docks, Henry had invited him to Granny's. Apparently, it had become the nightly ritual. Everyone gathered together to eat in semi-silence and bear the grief together. Sometimes, ideas for rescue were hashed out, sometimes not. All that mattered was that no one was left alone in this.

Killian had reluctantly agreed to appease the boy (not able to deny him this request) and for the first time in almost a week, had returned to his ship in order to properly bathe and clothe himself. The stench lingering off him from the decaying remains at the cannery would make a corpse turn in its grave, but at least it didn't remind him of the taste of cinnamon and cocoa upon her tongue or the lush perfume of coconut and jasmine in her hair.

After nodding his greeting to a shocked David and Mary Margaret, Killian sat at a booth near the back, trying to make himself invisible. He perused the menu, but already knew just what he was going to order, when he saw Regina arrive with Henry. He hadn't seen the mayor since that night, and the change in her was astounding. For once, the confident, poised demeanor was gone and she seemed just as lost and broken as everyone else. But then he saw Henry look up at her and grab her hand and her face changed to something harder and more resolute. She smiled slightly at Henry and squeezed his hand, before the boy turned to scan the restaurant. It was just after he had taken his first bite of grilled cheese when Henry flopped down in the seat across from him. Without a word, he started to grab a fry off Killian's plate, an unconscious move he had been doing ever since they had arrived back from New York, but then he seemed to catch himself and stop.

Killian frowned and pushed the plate forward, silently offering him whatever he wanted, but Henry merely stared absently at the plate and shook his head slightly.

At that moment, seeing the pain Henry was trying to hide, it all hit him again. Emma was gone, leaving not just him, but her parents and her son. It had to be killing her just as much as it was killing them. She was missing, alone, and in agony. And he had spent far too long wallowing in his own grief. She needed him. One way or the other, it was time to find her and bring her home.

Just then, the diner door slammed open with a shudder and a clang of chimes. Killian spun quickly, his hook arm going out instinctively to protect Henry. But it was only Belle. She was huffing, out of breath from running, but her eyes were wide with excitement.

From the next booth over, Killian heard Mary Margaret say, "Belle? What is it? What's wrong?"

Belle stepped forward, now looking sheepishly at the door she slammed open, but there was the slightest trace of deeper worry etched in her brow. "It's Rumple. He's awake. He…wants to talk to you."

Killian spun around, not quite sure how to take this announcement. Mary Margaret's eyes went wide. "Me?"

Flustered, Belle shook her head. "No. Not just you. _All of you_. He wants to speak to all of you. Now."

"What? Why?" David asked, standing already.

"He's been coming back in bits and pieces," Belle explained. "And today was the first time he managed to hold a conversation. He asked what happened."

"And you told him. About Emma." Regina supplied unhelpfully, as she sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Of course I did," Belle answered with a defiant glare her way. But then her face fell. "Then, he got very quiet for a moment. I thought he had gone back under. He does that. Falls asleep, or passes out, or… I don't know. But he wasn't. He sat up and told me that it was very important that he speak to everyone as soon as possible. _Very_." By the way she was nervously shuffling her feet, Killian could tell that whatever news the crocodile might have, it wasn't good.

David looked to his wife who merely shrugged and took his offered hand. Regina had already risen and was holding out a hand to Henry, who slipped out of the seat to follow her. That left only Killian. Alone. No one asked if he was coming. They didn't need to. Hell, if it was up to him, he would have lead the charge out the door, stormed into Rumpelstiltskin's room, and wrung every last piece of information from the man's lips before splitting his chest open with his hook. And by the looks he caught on people's faces as he passed, he was pretty sure they all knew it.

But it wasn't up to him. This was on everyone. So Killian followed along, bringing up the rear of the procession, trying to keep his emotions in check. For Emma's sake.

They arrived at Gold's home moments later. He was lying in bed, surrounded by books, tea cups, and various items that Belle had no doubt thought would aid his recovery. His eyes were closed, but Belle rushed forward and they slowly opened to the gentle press of her hand. "Rumple. They're here," she said softly.

He turned his head with what seemed like great effort. Killian's eyes grew wide with shock. Whatever he had thought he knew about Rumpelstiltskin, about what he would be like without the curse, he was not prepared for this. Never before had he seen anyone look as frail as the former crocodile did in that moment. He was taken back for a second, to a time long, long ago, to a meeting with another version of this man. A nervous, cowardly man who begged and pleaded with a haughty pirate for his wife. He had wanted that man to fight him then, to prove his love for Milah. And he had failed. He had no idea what to expect of this version of the crocodile. Was that the man who had returned or was he still tainted by the darkness that he had so long possessed? Either way, Killian knew he had to be wary.

With Belle and David's help, Rumple propped himself up on the pillows of his bed so that he could see the gathered group all at once. He eyes lingered longest on Henry, and his mouth twitched down in deep frown, as if remembering something painful. Killian had chosen to remain in the back, almost in the shadows watching the gathering with great interest. He couldn't help but notice how Henry's eyes seemed tinged with anger towards his grandfather, and he wondered what could have happened between them to have hardened such a forgiving heart like Henry's. Right now, though, that wasn't as important as what Rumple knew about the Dark One and how they could Emma back. Absolutely nothing else that man might say held any interest for him at the current time.

Rumple's frown only grew as he gathered his strength. His eyes flitted from quickly from Henry to Regina, then to David and Mary Margaret, barely taking notice of Killian, as if he belonged to the wallpaper, before they flashed angrily, almost exactly as they used to when he was still the Dark One. "Fools," he said so quietly, Killian had almost missed it. "How could you let Emma become the Dark One?"

In an instant, Regina was at his throat, and Mary Margaret was barely restraining David. Killian remained rooted to the spot, knowing if he let his barely restrained rage be unleashed, Rumple would never live to provide the answers the sought, and his need to find Emma momentarily overshadowed his anger. Barely. Instead, he took out his anger upon the man's wall, digging his hook deeply into the plaster.

"Are you serious? Do you honestly think any of us wanted that? She chose it! Because of what you did, you bastard!" Regina yelled, her composure slipping.

Rumple flinched back, but held up a hand to stop her before she could continue. "Please, there will be time later for you to fling your insults at me. That isn't what is important right now."

"Then what is?" David seethed.

"Finding your daughter."

David threw his hands up in exasperation. "Of course it is! Don't you think we've tried locating her? She vanished. She could be anywhere."

Rumple took a long look at David and his breath shuddered in his chest before he could speak. "No, I have a good idea where she is. But you are missing the big picture."

"Which is?" Regina prompted, waving her arm for him to get to the point.

If the old man didn't look like he was about to expire at any moment, Killian thought he might have been stalling on purpose, dragging out his answers to his own sadistic pleasure. But he seemed instead, to be gathering his strength, taking long, slow breaths, and gently rubbing at his chest. "Emma was born with one of the strongest natural magical abilities I've ever seen. As the Savior, her powers are even more impressive. Which is why allowing her to take my place as the Dark One was the most foolish thing that you could have done," he finished bitterly, his words coming out in shallow little gulps, but their impact none the less devastating.

"No one 'allowed' Emma to take the Dark One's curse. You know her, it was her decision," Regina spat, the guilt on her face barely hidden.

David looked at her with a sympathetic eye, and turned back to glare at the shell of a man lying in the bed. "Is there a point to this, or do you just enjoy rubbing our nose in the mess you caused?"

Rumple wheezed and all the anger fell away from his countenance. In it's place, a look of true sincerity filled his eyes. "No. I don't enjoy it. That is not my intention. Believe it or not, I have a certain amount of respect for Miss Swan. She has proven herself to be a worthy… _adversary_ , if you will. And her courage was always quite admirable. But if there is one thing I know, it's the Dark One."

Mary Margaret broke free from her husband, who was still too angry to join her. She approached Rumple's side, giving Belle a slight pat on her arm, and then setting her face in hardness. "Wait a minute. You talk as if the Dark One is a person. I thought it was a curse?"

This line of questioning seemed to perk Rumple up and he shifted so that he could speak directly to her. "Oh yes, it is most definitely a curse. But the Darkness is more than that." He groaned and rubbed at his chest, Belle quickly jumping to his side before he waved her away. He stared up at Mary Margaret with his dark eyes narrowed and his lips held in a tight line, signifying that what he was saying was important. "It's like a parasite, feeding on the deepest wishes and desires of its host, but it also has a mind and agenda all its own. And now it has Emma."

"What kind of agenda?" Belle asked, still hovering at his side.

Rumple's voice fell, his words barely louder than a whisper, yet they carried as well as if he had screamed them. "The Darkness wants one thing…power. It wants total domination. To wipe out any and all traces of light in this realm and any other. Until now, it has been tempered by the natural abilities and strengths of the host body it inhabits." Rumple fell back against the pillows, looking drained and worried, struggling against his flagging strength.

Killian was unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. He emerged from the shadows, meeting the old man's eye. "What do you mean by 'until now', Crocodile?"

The two men stared at each other for a moment, years of mutual distrust flashing between them. Rumple was the first to break away, seemingly revitalized by his anger. "Imagine the Darkness is like a wild animal. It is instinctual, acting on impulse to ensure its own survival. It is drawn to beings of power because it either perceives them as a threat-and thus to be eliminated- or it wishes to use their power for its own. It has never before been able to consume the power of a being of light magic, because darkness and light are diametrically opposed sides." His face grew stiffer, his words more biting. "But Miss Swan's sacrifice, her willingly giving herself up to the darkness was like her holding out a bloody steak to a starving lion and not expecting it to attack. She allowed it that taste of her magic and now it will simply be ravenous for more."

Silence greeted him when he was finished. The look on Mary Margaret's face was one of utter horror, and Henry had drawn into Regina's side like he was a little child, not almost an adult. "More?" Regina fumed, her arm wrapped steadily around her son. "But it already has possession of her, doesn't it? How could it want more? What are you getting at, Gold?"

Rumple nodded to himself silently, as if mulling over what to say. He looked up and caught Regina's eye sadly. "Yes, it has her. But if I know Miss Swan, she hasn't given in to it yet. Her heart and the power of her light magic still remains her own, despite what the Dark One might be doing to the rest of her body."

Mary Margaret looked to David, then back at Rumple, her eyes flashing with new hope for her daughter.  
"That's a good thing isn't it? Doesn't that mean we can bring her back?"

Rumple frowned. "Yes, in theory. But you still haven't understood what I've said. Once the Darkness has had a taste of Emma, it will _never_ let go. Separating it from her will be impossible, I'm not even sure stabbing her with the dagger will work, as it will use every bit of magic in its power to prevent that from happening, and I believe that is not an option you would consider anyway. And if it gets her heart, not even the dagger will be enough to control it. The Darkness will spread across the realms, and using the power of Emma's magic as well as its own, it will wipe out the light forever."

The silence was almost as deafening as a raging sea. No one moved or even breathed as the force of impact washed over them. Killian's mind raced with the horror that was presented before him. Not only was Emma potentially lost, but now she might be used to destroy the world. The need in him to find her intensified tenfold.

At last, Henry spoke up, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room. "Then how do we stop it? How do we get my mom back?" He sounded so small, so desperate, that Killian couldn't stop his heart from breaking at the sound.

Rumple tried to sit up, to speak to his grandson, saying his name sadly, but then, without warning, the older man's eyes rolled back in his head, his face going slack as he slumped over heavily into his cushions.

"Grandpa?" Henry asked tentatively, lightly shaking his arm and looking around for help.

Belle smiled sadly at him and shook her head, like this was a familiar occurrence. "I'm sorry, Henry," she offered. "He's out. But that was the strongest I've seen him yet. I'm sure next time, he'll be even better."

"So that's it? Can't you wake him?" Regina commanded, taking her son into her arms.

"I can't. There's no way. He must regain the strength on his own. It…it might take some time," Belle added with an apologetic shrug. Reaching over, she gently lifted and settled his frail frame back down into the bed, tucking the blankets up under his arms.

"Bloody useless Crocodile!" Killian cursed loudly, startling them all by the broken silence. Pacing in his corner, Killian ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He had hoped that what that man had to say would give him direction, a way to fight for Emma, but now he was only left with even more worries and fears about Emma's safety.

"Killian, calm down," David started, stepping up closer to him.

"Don't test me, Dave. And don't tell me to calm down," Killian growled menacingly, lifting his hook in warning. "Emma is still bloody missing and that useless sod hasn't told us anything."

"That's not true," Mary Margaret replied suddenly, joining her husband's side. "He told us that Emma still has a chance. That her heart is still hers and that she can fight this off." Her eyes sparkled with hope, but Killian couldn't return it. He wanted to, but he just couldn't.

Not when his thoughts were filled with Emma in pain, aching with loneliness and despair, begging him to save her, to free her from her hell. It wasn't that he doubted Emma. He knew she was strong, that she wouldn't give in easily, but he also knew how tempting the darkness could be, how it sneak up on you, wearing down your defenses. How it could trick you into believing the darkness was a good thing. He knew that it was more imperative than ever that they find Emma quickly and help her get back to the light. But once again, he was left with no answers and no direction. It was killing him.

(He refused to even think about the fact that she might willingly give in. He absolutely _couldn't_.)

Catching sight of Henry's anxious face watching his every move, Killian knew he had to get himself under control for his sake. He couldn't let these thoughts show, couldn't let the boy share in his torment. Breathing heavily through his nose, he forced himself to try and smile, letting Mary Margaret believe her words had broken through to him.

Taking another glance at the boy, Killian felt the overwhelming need to be alone once more. What kind of example was he setting for the lad? He was a wreck, a hairs-breath away from falling right back into his old ways. Except what did he have now? Not even vengeance. Only self-loathing and the deepest sadness he had ever known. He was no fit company for anyone, especially not a boy like Henry.

Vaguely, he was aware that the conversation around him had resumed, and he heard Mary Margaret asking Belle, "How long is he normally out for?" Her wide green eyes looked suddenly too much like her daughters when they were determined. Unconsciously, Killian took a step closer to the door, the need to flee growing stronger.

The other brunette woman sighed, "I don't know. Sometimes hours. Sometimes days. The times he's awake are getting longer though. I think he's really fighting to come back," she adds softly, a sadness about her mouth that she usually kept hidden, as her silent ' _to me'_ was implied.

If Killian wasn't so wretched and angry, he would have offered Belle some sort of comfort, some sort of hopeful assurance. After all, they had become friends, and that was what friends did. But that was a Killian who still had Emma. And right now, that man was gone.

At least she had people like Mary Margaret and David, who could offer her support. "Belle," Mary Margaret began, tenderly placing a hand upon her arm. "I know he is." She smiled, and then looked to her grandson, who was wavering unsteadily on his feet, clearly exhausted. With resolution, she added, "You know, it's pretty late. Maybe we should all go home and rest and talk about all this tomorrow with fresh minds."

Everyone seemed to agree with this and began filing out through the door. Killian watched them go, melting back into the shadows once more so that he wouldn't have to face the pointed looks he might get from Emma's parents, asking him to spend the night at their loft. And for some reason, the look Henry had given him earlier had set him on edge. If he didn't know better, he was sure the lad was angry with him for some reason, but at what, he couldn't say. Fortunately, Henry seemed unfocused and drawn, as Regina silently lead him away towards their home.

Mary Margaret was walking past with Belle, pulling her in for a hug. "In the meantime, if he wakes up, you can call us and we'll be right over. You should try to rest, too. I know how hard this has been."

Belle nodded in relief and offered an apologetic smile to her. "Not nearly as hard as it's been for you. But I'll try. And I'll be sure to call you the second he's awake."

With a final hug, Mary Margaret exited the room, catching up to her husband so that they could walk back together.

Lost in his own thoughts, Killian remained pressed up against the corner, worried that maybe he should have said something to Henry. He knew he should have tried to offer him some sort of encouragement or hope, but didn't know if he had it in him at the moment. His heart just felt too broken. So deep was he that he almost missed the light pressure upon his arm. It wasn't until he heard Belle's tender voice at his side, that he was even aware of where he was. "Killian?" She asked, looking up at him with her wide turquoise eyes drawn together in a frown. "I'm not going to ask if everything is alright, because I know it isn't. I can't even imagine what you are going through." Her voice faltered, and her face seemed to pinch together in pain as something occurred to her. "Actually, I can in some ways, because I've been in love with the Dark One."

Her admission startled Killian from the vicious cycle of his own thoughts. That was right. If there was anyone that could possibly understand a fraction of the despair he was in, it was her. Even though their circumstances were drastically different, Belle knew exactly what it was like to love someone lost in the darkness. He blinked several times, intently focused on the petite brunette. "Aye, lass," he commented, his voice scratchy with emotion. "Perhaps you can."

Belle sighed, her face turning to look back at that of her former husband. "It was hard, I'm not going to lie. But I always knew that past all that darkness, the real person still lurked, and that one day, he would…" Belle's eyes tilted down, as her voice faltered, "well, I had _hoped_ that one day he would put me first, but I'm not really sure if he was ever strong enough to try."

He knew the pain she was feeling, and without realizing it, his heart went out to her. "Lass," Killian interrupted, taking her hand in his. "Don't do that to yourself. I knew that man before he was dark, and, yes, he was a coward, but also he was…" Killian paused, taking a breath and running his hand through his hair. He couldn't believe he was about to admit this, but he realized that the hope she needed he could provide, because in many ways, it was the same as what he craved as well, "…he was a good man, who truly cared for the people he loved."

"And if I could see that goodness in him, even at his darkest…" Belle supplied, now smiling a little brighter. "…then you can find it in Emma. Don't lose hope yet, Killian. I know Emma, and she was never weak. She will fight this. You know she will. And she will win."

Before she could finish, his arms were circling around the librarian and his face was buried in her shoulder. Soundlessly, he wept into her shoulder as she allowed him this moment without comment. Somehow, this talk with Belle had broken through his despair and allowed him to release some of his worst fears. Simply having someone who understood, who couldn't offer him a hope he could believe in was astounding. He had never had this before. Was this what having true friendship was like?

For the first time since Emma had disappeared, Killian felt like himself once more. "Thank you, lass," he murmured, pulling himself off her and not even bothering to wipe away the dampness on his cheeks.

"Anytime, pirate," she teased softly, actually managing to get him to smile back. "We'll find her, Killian."

Suddenly, hope bloomed within him. "Aye, lass. That we will."

Belle's smile grew and Killian's chest burned a little bit warmer. "Go get some sleep, Killian. Preferably without the aid of rum. You don't want to scare Emma with those dark circles under your eyes when you find her, do you?"

He shook his head, warmed by the surety in her voice. Bidding her a quick goodnight, he quickly made his way across town to his ship. By the time he arrived, the exhaustion he had been fighting off had finally caught up with him, and upon touching his bed, he practically passed out.

That night, his sleep was dreamless.

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 **Reviews always appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- Finished this one quick than anticipated. Hope you enjoy it! Thank you all for reading!**

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 _"In this world of change, nothing which comes stays, and nothing which goes is lost."_

-Anne Sophie Swetchine

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 **Chapter 2: Stages of Change-Contemplation**

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Inspired by his talk with Belle and determined not to slide back into the dark pit he had crawled out of, Killian focused his grief into gathering his resources, forming battle strategies, and pouring over any of the research on the Dark One's Curse that they had gleaned in the last few weeks. Ever since the Apprentice had told them that they would need Merlin to destroy the darkness, a large part of their searching had been devoted to finding what information they could on the Sorcerer. Unlike some people, there was almost too much information on Merlin. Unfortunately, none of it was helpful. There were so many different directions, even descriptions of who he was, that is was nearly impossible to get a clear picture about the wizard they were supposed to be looking for, not to mention where he might currently be.

Regina was working with Mary Margaret and Blue to try and locate Emma through magical means ever since her disappearance, even going so far as to summon her with the dagger, but to no avail. This meant either she was in a different realm, or that she was unable to come back because of some other reason. Perhaps she had gone out into the Land Without Magic so that her powers couldn't harm anyone. Hoping this was the route she had chosen, August, David, and Robin were put in charge of trying to find her in this realm. They scoured the internet, police files, and her old contacts and places of residence, anything they could think of, but when they couldn't find any trace of her, the hope that she was here began to fade. Every day the possibility that she was nearby grew less and less likely.

Rumple's words had been haunting Killian ever since their late night meeting. If what he said was true, it was likely that what made Emma _Emma_ was still very much present inside her and that the Dark One was simply using her body as a way to enact its plans. What that meant for her, however, was still very much in doubt. If they found Emma, would she be able to break the Dark One's hold? Would she even be aware of their presence? What did Rumple mean about twisting the desires of the host to wipe out the Light forever?

There were just so many questions and no answers.

Instead, Killian decided to make himself useful in a more direct manner. Having gotten quite good at research the Dark One throughout the centuries, he stuck to Gold's shop and the library, scouring his old books and papers for any information about Merlin or the Dark Curse that he could find. The irony of his situation did not go unnoticed by him, but most of the time he chose to ignore that. His knowledge did come in handy, though, as he was able to quickly dismiss any false leads or unhelpful information that would have taken others days and days to sort through.

Occasionally, he was joined in his research by Belle (who would also bring him food), and more often, by Henry (who simply sat quietly and read through whatever he was directed to). This new, quiet Henry bothered Killian greatly. Emma's boy had always been, in the time Killian had known him, quite the spitfire, possessed of quick wit and a sharp tongue. Not to mention a kind and loving personality. Frequently, Killian found himself unable to continue his search because his mind was too concerned about what Henry was going through. However, every time Killian had tried to talk to the lad about what was bothering him, Henry just clammed up and started to give one word answers.

With Emma, Killian had always known when to push and when to back down. But with Henry, Killian felt completely adrift. Images of Bae's face as he realized who Killian was kept filling his mind. For now, though, he knew he needed to put all that aside and simply find some way to talk to the boy.

 _You've known loss, now comfort him_ , he scolded himself.

"Lad," Killian began and suddenly the words he wanted to say failed to come.

"What?" Henry asked, a bit harsher than Killian would have expected.

"Um, I…" Killian looked at the way the boy was trying to mask his emotions and felt he needed to say something to him. "I know you miss her. I do too. But we will find her," he finished weakly.

 _Gods, that was pathetic,_ he thought _._

"Okay," Henry replied curtly, never lifting his eyes from the book he was reading.

 _This was not going well._

Killian faltered, unsure how to proceed. He had never known the boy to act this way towards anyone. He could sense something was eating away at him, but had no idea what it could be. He was dealing with things that no one his age (or any age) should ever have to deal with, so naturally, it was his prerogative to be a bit out of sorts. Still, Killian could sense there was something more to the boy's strange behavior than just worry about his mother.

Noticing Killian's gaze, Henry sighed and looked up from the book. "Are there any more?" He asked.

Scratching at his ear, Killian pushed away from the counter and said, "Aye, I think there might be some in the back. You keep reading that one, lad."

Returning to his research, Henry simply mumbled, "Sure, I'll keep _trying_ ," and began flipping through the pages again, this time with a little more force than was necessary.

 _What was that about?_

Furrowing his brow, Killian frowned to himself at Henry's tone and ducked out of the room.

…

When they got the news a few days later that Rumple was awake, they all gathered back in his room for further illumination on the nature of the Dark Curse and what he knew about Emma's whereabouts. Still looking frail, but not quite like he was going to pass out at any moment, he greeted them with a curt nod of his head. This time, his breathing sounded steadier and his eyes were far more keen, which was encouraging. Maybe now he would actually be able to offer them more concrete help. Maybe now they could find Emma.

When they had all gathered, taking chairs from his dining room and sitting them about the room, Rumple began. "I know what you all think of me. I know what I've done, and I don't expect forgiveness from any of you."

"Good, because you won't be getting it," David grumbled. Mary Margaret glared and elbowed him in the side.

For a moment, the man's eyes fell, but he quickly shuttered away that emotion and continued on before anyone could notice. However, Killian noticed and added to his pile of 'things to be wary of' about this new Crocodile. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you anyway. I need to tell you all something, and you are not going to like it."

David stood up, blue eyes flashing and fists clenched. "Just tell us and stop wasting our time."

Killian smiled to himself, glad that if it wasn't him, at least someone was showing that man some teeth.

Rumple cleared his throat and narrowed his dark eyes, but even then, Killian could clearly see the fear he was trying to hide. With his powers as the Dark One gone, it seemed that Rumpelstiltskin was returning to the man he was before. That was a good thing. It had been a long time since he had known fear, and Killian was pleased to see it now. Rumple looked to Belle, who was perched at the end of his bed, giving him a reassuring nod to continue, and began. "I have a good idea where the Dark One is, but if I tell you, you must promise to not go after Emma."

Jumping to his feet, Killian roared, "No bloody way!"

Mary Margaret rose as well, but planted herself between the seething pirate and the frail man lying in the bed. She turned to the pirate with a look of desperation in her eyes that softened his sudden outrage. "Please, not now, Killian. I know how you feel, but we need to hear him out." She turned to Rumple and with a voice and a look honed by years of royal authority, she added, "And then we'll decide whether to accept."

The man's lips met in a grim line as he glowered at the Charmings. "Very well. I suppose that is all I can ask." He took a breath, his eyes drifting away to stare out his window. "It is my belief that the Dark One will have returned to the Enchanted Forest."

Regina piped up with a quick retort. "We tried scrying there for Emma, but nothing showed up. Why do you think she went there?"

Rumple turned back to look at her. "No offense, dear, but you were looking for Emma, not the Dark One," he corrected. "I told you, the Darkness has control of her, so looking for Emma would not help you. As to why, that is a bit easier. When the magic of the Savior and the magic of the Dark One collided, a huge disturbance in the natural order occurred. It was enough to open a portal in order to expel such a magical hurricane from this land into one that is more, shall we say, hospitable towards magic. The Enchanted Forest seems the most likely choice, since both Emma and the Dark One are acquainted with it.

"Isn't there anyway we can find out for sure?" David asked.

"Indeed there is,"

"I sense a 'but' in there somewhere," Regina scoffed.

"No 'buts' dear, just a warning. Searching for the Dark One will not only be difficult, it will be dangerous. So, in an attempt to make amends for some of my actions as the Dark One, I will help you, but only if you take my warning seriously and don't go rushing off to save the Savior like the typical brainless heroes you have been known to be." It was clear that returning to the man he had been before the Darkness had not helped his sense of superiority, but an attempt at an apology, even if it was only half-assed, was still somewhat of an improvement. At least he wasn't trying to have them make a deal.

Those gathered gave their assent to be careful and Rumple waved his hand, motioning for Belle to come closer. From around his neck, he drew out a key on a long golden chain and handed it to her. "In my shop, locked in the cupboard is a crystal ball. Zelena's actually. Belle can help you find it. It is more powerful at scrying other realms than your mirror, my dear." He added with a smirk.

Regina rolled her eyes while crossing her arms in front of her. "So you've had it all this time? Why am I not surprised?"

Mary Margaret jumped in with new fervor. "This will let us see Emma?"

With an eye roll of his own, Rumple corrected, "It will let you see the Dark One. And that brings me back to my original point. Remember, who you might see in that ball will not be your daughter, it will be the Dark One. If you go after her and try to bring her back, you will fail. You will need a way to break the Dark curse first."

To no one's surprise, Mary Margaret asked, "What about True Love's Kiss?"

Rumple growled. "You still don't understand! The Darkness has total possession over Emma. You cannot simply destroy the Dark One with true love, because _it_ has no love."

Killian gritted his teeth, his fist pressing painfully into his thigh. Again he was reminded that the Dark One had possession of Emma's body, and that Emma's soul was trapped inside. Silently he cursed the heavens. Although he had thought it a long shot, deep down he had held onto the hope of their love being enough to break the curse. He had pictured himself finding Emma, gathering her in his arms, and uttering those three words back as a wave of magic shot forth between them. Now, according to the crocodile, that was an impossibility. It was better this way anyway, he supposed. What good was getting caught up in silly fantasies? Life had a way of showing Killian just how unpredictable love was anyway. Not to mention it had a way of forever kicking him right in the teeth. Why would he ever expect anything to work out for him as simple as that?

"What about Merlin?" Henry asked suddenly, reminding everyone of his presence in the room.

Rumple eyes widened and he sat forward, gesturing for Henry to come closer. "Merlin? How did you hear that name?"

Cautiously, Henry took a step towards his grandfather, his head and shoulders suddenly bracing with inner strength. Just like his mother's did when she knew she had a job to do. "The Apprentice said that was the name of the Sorcerer. He said that only he could get rid of the Darkness. Do you know how to find him? We've been looking, but we haven't found anything yet," Henry answered softly.

Looking miserable, Rumpled replied, "I'm sorry, Henry, but no, I do not know where Merlin is." At the sight of Henry's fallen face, he quickly added, "Trust me, though, that is a good thing. If I had known where to find the Sorcerer, I would have tried to eliminate him ages ago." He calmed his breathing and closed his eyes, gathering his strength and memories together. "What I can tell you is that Merlin is the name of a man who is shrouded in mystery. Some believe him to be the father of magic, the first wizard, someone interested in helping mankind. Others claimed he was simply a powerful advisor to the King of Camelot, and that his magic was all an act for him to gain more power. However, he hasn't been heard from for many, many ages."

A collective sadness fell over the group, his words only confirming something they had slowly been finding from the research—that Merlin, may be long dead.

Rumple took one look at the group and then again at his grandson and offered him a quick wink. "Many have believed him to be dead, but I never did."

"Why?" Henry asked.

"Have you ever had something happen to you that you just couldn't explain?" Rumple answered mysteriously.

Deep in thought, Henry caught his grandmother's eye and said, "You mean like finding a book of fairytales in the back of a closet?"

Rumple's grin widened. "Precisely. Have you never wondered how that book showed up? I assure you, I have thought upon it at length. And I believe it to be the work of the Sorcerer. There were other clues. Sometimes, he would leave behind traces of his presence, like that mansion showing up out of nowhere. Other times, he would help in small but significant ways. In fact, I think he has been involved in all our stories for a very long time."

Regina stood up, her mind flashing back to the page of her and Robin that had appeared so suddenly. "So I assume this Merlin knows the future and he has decided to secretly intervene in our lives. The question is why?"

Rumple shook his head. "I have no idea, dearie. I believe he knows a great many things and that he has been carefully orchestrating the notes to a piece of music I cannot begin to comprehend."

"So are we just some sort of pawns in a game to him?"

"Whatever his motives are remain a mystery to me."

Biting his lip, Henry shuffled nervously, seeming more animated than they had seen him since Emma had disappeared. "Do you think he's a good guy? Do you think he will help my mom?"

Knowing that his next words would be of upmost importance, Rumple paused to think about the answer to his question. "Yes, I think he will help, if we can find him," he said slowly. "But Henry, that will not be easy. Many have tried, for far longer than I can remember, and to my knowledge, no one that I know of have has ever succeeded."

"Bloody fantastic," Killian groaned bitterly. "We're chasing a bloody ghost."

Henry pushed away from them all, retreating back so that he was close to the door. Also a trait he had picked up from his mother. Shaking his head, he stated sadly, "If he's good, he has to help. He can't just let my mom suffer. It's not fair." He looked over at his grandparents with pleading eyes. "We'll find him. That's what we do, right?"

David and Mary Margaret both teared up at the same time. Holding out her hand, she sighed, "Henry—"

Unable to bear the light of hope leaving her son's face, Regina spoke up, demanding Rumple's attention. "So why can't we find some other way to help Emma? Why can't we at least let her know we are trying to save her?"

"Any attempt to contact Emma without protection will no doubt lead to your death. The Dark One knows that you will attempt to rescue her, in fact, it will be counting on it. What better way to break her spirit than to have her watch, helpless, while the Dark One murders her family," he illustrated.

Mary Margaret's hands flew over her mouth, choking out, "Oh, Emma!"

Realizing that his words were harsh but necessary, Rumple continued on in his usual fashion. "I'm sorry, but I know how the Dark One works, I know how it thinks. And I know it would do whatever it takes to break her, to get her to lose hope and submit her heart to the darkness. And as painful as it is, staying away is the only way to truly help your daughter. We must have faith that your daughter is strong enough to keep hoping in your love for her."

….

As offered, early the next morning Belle helped located Zelena's crystal ball and everyone was far too anxious to see if Emma was alright to not use it. Knowing where she had ended up was just one small victory, but one they desperately needed. Killian was mad with the desire for just one look, just to reassure himself that she was still alive. However, they agreed caution was necessary, and Regina explained that she would only try to pinpoint her location, not speak directly to her, no matter how badly they wanted it.

Gathering together at a table in Regina's house, much like the séance they held to contact Cora, she placed the crystal ball in the middle of the table. David, Mary Margaret, Robin and Killian around in a circle, staring at the empty glass and waiting for the smallest glimmer of hope. Regina furrowed her brow, calling out with her magic, and at once, the ball became filled with a swirl of red smoke. As it cleared, the Dark One's castle clearly could be seen.

"Looks like Rumpelstiltskin's castle. I guess it makes sense that the Dark One would return there." Regina announced, her hands held out to concentrate her magic.

Robin frowned and added, "The castle looks to be in much better shape than it was when I was there."

"I'm going to see if I can get a little bit closer," Regina said, concentrating her magic one the sphere. The view suddenly jumped, so that now, they were looking at the inside of the castle, yet there was no sign of Emma or of anyone else in the ball except for a giant black throne.

"Where—" Mary Margaret whispered, and just then, the view inside the sphere was replaced by black smoke and Regina fell back in her chair as if a force pushed her back. Suddenly, the smoke cleared away and as a flash of blonde hair and green eyes appeared. And then, she was there, looking back at them with a wicked sneer upon her beautiful face, her green eyes vividly bright and alive.

Killian leaned forward, his heart leaping into his throat at the sight of her. It was her. They had found her. All thoughts about Rumple's warnings flew from his head and he couldn't help the small, choked, "Emma," coming from his lips.

She smirked at the group and waved her finger back and forth. "Naughty, naughty. Spying is not very nice," she cackled. Her voice was so cold and so different, that Killian instantly snapped back, all of Rumple's words slamming back at him. This was not their Emma, no matter how much she may look like it. Even so, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Her appearance was changed, not drastically, but her hair and clothes were far different and there was a strange superiority about her movements that she had never possessed. Overall, she still very much looked like his Emma. And it was all wrong. In some ways, Killian thought it might have been less upsetting seeing her with scales and gold eyes than like herself.

"I suppose I shouldn't be too upset. I mean, it's not like you guys could Skype me." Gods, she even talked like Emma and it was so easy for a moment to fall into thinking that nothing was different. "I guess it was finally time to get my own place. Right, mom and dad? You know, you should really come for a visit, I do miss you all so much," she taunted, her voice turning more menacing with each breath.

"Regina, that's enough…" David stammered, his voice catching. From his place across the table, Killian could easily see the Prince's face marred with horror.

Regina furrowed her brows, focusing her magic into the ball. "I can't—" she panted.

Emma, or rather the Dark One, giggled at her attempts. Killian's heart thundered to hear it, a vivid flash of their last happy moment together overtaking him for a moment. "Oh, sorry, that's me," she teased. "I don't want you to go just yet. I'm serious, guys, you really don't want to miss this," she said with a wave of her hand, indicating the castle around her. "But don't worry if you can't make it. I'll be home soon. In the meantime, can't have you ruining the surprises I have in store for you," her eyes lit up and she turned to Mary Margaret with a wink, "I know how much you love surprises, mom."

"Emma…" Mary Margaret gasped, her eyes filled with tears. "Please, if you can hear me, fight back! We love you! We'll save you!"

Putting a finger to her lips, she closed her eyes as if debating with herself, "Aw, thanks mom. But I don't need saving. Sorry." She clapped her hands together and spun around merrily in her room. "Well, this was a nice chat. We should really do it again sometime. Next time, though, why don't I call you?" With a little wave of her hand, she smirked again, this time staring straight at Killian with a hard intensity, meant solely for him. "See you soon," she finished, as the crystal ball once more filled with a black, inky smoke. This time, it slowly began seeping through the glass and onto the surface, coating it with a gooey resin that seemed almost to pulse with life.

Snatching back her outstretched palm, Regina recoiled and shouted, "Don't touch that, whatever you do!"

"What?" David asked.

With a look of disgust, she replied, "That is dark, dark magic. I don't know what touching that would do, but I don't even want to find out."

David nodded and pushed his chair quickly away from the table and helped his wife to her feet, as everyone else followed suit. "Okay. Don't touch the icky black stuff. Not a problem."

"Oh, David!" Mary Margaret cried, falling into his arms. "Our Emma…she's… that was horrible!"

Holding tightly, he consoled his wife, but the scene he witnessed was clearly messing with him as well. "Shh, honey. Remember what Rumple said. It wasn't Emma, not really. And she's still in there. Fighting. I know it. We just have to have faith."

Regina sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers, as Robin came and stood beside her. "Okay, so clearly, Rumple was telling the truth. What now?"

"Now, we do whatever it takes to find Merlin," Killian stated before pushing the chair out of his way and storming from the room.

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 **Reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- This was a very hard chapter to write in many ways. I hope it makes sense. This is Emma's perspective and what is happening to her. Also, as I mentioned, for the purpose of this fic, the Dark One and Emma are two separate entities living in the same body. I hope this is clear. And also sorry for the angst.**

 **A huge thank you to anyone who left a review or favorited/followed. You guys are awesome!**

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 _"Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares."_  
― Aman Jassal, _Rainbow - the shades of love_

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 **Chapter 3: Stages of Life- Imagination and Dreaming  
**

* * *

 _Emma?_

"Emma?"

Someone was calling her name in the darkness, but she couldn't find the light. Thoughts tumbled around, her limbs felt disconnected. Slowly, the darkness dissolved into a warm white wash of light. Objects took on familiar shapes around her—her dresser, the floral print bedspread, sunlight through the window, a figure dressed in black holding onto her. The sensation also came back to her legs and arms, and she could feel the soft but smooth texture of leather under her fingers and the warm heat of his body under her thighs.

As the room swam back into focus, so did Killian's concerned face. He was watching her intently, concern drawing down his mouth into a tight line. Something bad must have happened to her for him to look at her with those worried eyes.

"Wha…What happened?" Even though everything seemed like it was falling back into place, something still felt off to her. Something nagging at her in the deeper parts of her mind about this moment, with him on her bed and her kneeling on top of him. There was sense of familiarity about this scene that she couldn't quite place. Like…it had already happened.

Killian's brow unfurled and his lips twitched upward into a relieved grin. "Well, Swan, you seemed to have just…drifted away in the middle of our conversation," he chuckled. "Normally, I'd take offense, but seeing as you were so overwhelmed with my miraculous reappearance, I suppose I could let it pass."

She cleared her head with a little shake, still feeling off kilter. What was he talking about? Miraculous reappearance? "Oh, sorry," she mumbled. "Where were we?"

He scooted up a little closer, adjusting her on his lap so that she was pressed up right against his core. She swallowed thickly and tried to not let her eyes roll back in her head at the sensation that caused. "Well, love," he crooned, flexing his leg muscles underneath her so that she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. "You came rushing up here, attacked me and threw me a top your bed," he -paused to roll his tongue into his cheek (damn him) and give her a wink, "and then you said there was something you needed to tell me," he added with a little bit of a knowing grin. "So, what is it, love?" His smirk turned into a lip purse as her whole body shivered in response.

 _Something she was supposed to tell him?_ She frantically tried to remember. There was something very important…about when he died. That was it. It was about what she realized when he died. Oh god, it was all coming back to her now. The fear, the heartache. The words she had never said.

He was still waiting, searching her eyes and no doubt seeing the panic which she tried to tamp down. With a nervous breath, she swallowed and tried her hardest to get those words to come out. But her fear slammed back into her, hard and heavy. "I…I just wanted to say…thank you, Killian, for sacrificing yourself."

His eyes fell, she could see them dull as the playfulness and hope instantly snuffed out, and her heart fell. "Thank you?" He asked with a slight edge that made her shiver for an entirely different reason.

Emma shrugged the bite of his words off. This was Killian. This was the man who had literally died for her. No way he would reject her. Would he?

"Um, yeah," she faltered, feeling as if this whole conversation was now just going wrong somehow. Like it should have happened differently. _Of course it should have_ , she chided herself. _You should have told him the truth._ "Henry and I wouldn't have succeeded without you." Emma breathed out, waiting to see that little spark of life grow in his eyes again. The one that told her he understood her fear and that it was okay.

Instead, he dipped his head and gently pushed her back off his legs. Confused, she scrambled to untangle herself and nearly toppled off the bed in the process. "Killian? What's wrong?" _This whole conversation, for starters._

He wasn't looking at her, hadn't really looked at her since she had failed to say what she knew she should have said. "Gratitude?" He growled. His voice was cold like ice and equally as sharp. "That's all I ever get from you. Your _gratitude._ "

Emma hugged her arms around herself, pressing a fist deeply into her chest, as if trying to ward off his words from reaching her heart. But already, she could feel the ache blooming from their sting.

Killian stood up now, towering over her, a fire banking in his eyes. The last time he had looked at her like that was when he had locked her in Rumpelstiltskin's cell. _Just as I'm done with you_ , echoed hollowly through her skull. "I can't believe you, Swan. After all I've done. After dying to save you! You are still so bloody afraid of you can't even bring yourself to utter _three little words_?" His voice had risen with his anger and he ran a hand through his hair as if he was trying to keep it from lashing out at her.

Emma's chest was now a thundering, giant maw of pain. Her breaths came out in little pants as she was bombarded with all those _lasts_.

 _"Too bad, I kind of liked you."_

 _"Emma. I remember."_

 _"Sorry to tell ya, but your boy took off. Probably in Canada by now."_

She cringed when he chuckled mirthlessly, "You know, all this time, I've hated the crocodile because of he was a coward. But you, _Emma_ , you are the greatest coward of them all." He spun round, shaking his head at her, "I can't believe I've wasted my love on you."

The look of disgust in his silver blue eyes was the last straw, as she fell to her knees in an undignified heap.

 _Nonononononononono._

Emma screamed inside her mind. Her heart clenched tighter as her fingers clawed at her shirt, almost as she was trying to rip it out. Tears burned her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut, so that she wouldn't be left with the image of him walking away and so that he might not see just how badly he had broken her. God, she wished she was stronger she wished she had kept her walls up and never let him in. She wished…

Her mind had finally caught up, railing against her fears. _No you don't_ , it whispered. Just that little shred of hope left that begged her to listen despite everything. _This was wrong, so wrong. He would never…_

 _Not him. Never him._

A high pitched laughter suddenly filled the air. A very _feminine_ laughter. Emma's eyes flew open. Gone was her bedroom and the familiar comforts of her home. Instead, she found herself standing in front of a large, ornately carved mirror in some room of stone and wood. And _holy god!_ What was she wearing? Her body trembled with the terrible memory still playing on repeat, but confusion and curiosity had momentarily eclipsed it.

The laughter continued, and as she looked up, she saw with dawning horror that is was her laughing in the mirror. It was her image, her reflection, but the woman in the mirror was as different from her as night from day. The woman she saw reflected was poised, confident, and cruel. A maliciousness twinkled behind her cool green eyes.

She stopped laughing and clapped her hands together. "Oh! That was too much fun!"

Completely at a loss to see her own mouth speaking while knowing her own didn't move, Emma managed a weak, "What's going on?"

The other Emma ran a hand down her skin-tight leather-clad body in an almost seductive manner. She looked down at her nearly exposed cleavage and then back up with a wicked grin. "You know, it's been a long time since I was in a form quite this _appealing_. I had forgotten how much fun it could be."

Emma shook away the fog and the remnants of Hook's rejection to try and focus on what the hell was happening in front of her. "Who the hell are you?"

The lady giggled. It sent shivers down Emma's spine not for its cruel intent, but because of its eerily familiar high-pitched titter. "Oh, I think you know. After all, you invited me here."

Swallowing hard, her heart racing, Emma closed her eyes as the real memories came rushing back.

 _Regina. The darkness. The dagger. Her parents._

 _Killian._

 _I love you._

Now, she remembered the truth. With overwhelming relief, she realized that the scene she had just witnessed wasn't what happened after all. Yes, she had chickened out, but Killian had taken it with his usual grace and he had never pressured her to admit to more than she was ready for. And he hadn't rejected her. Or left her.

No, she had been the one to leave. Again. She left him, left all of them, when she had willingly taken on the Dark Curse. But at least she had found her courage before she did. And she had told Killian how she felt, told him that she loved him. At least he would have that.

"You're the Dark One," Emma concluded, her heart dropping like a stone.

"Well, actually, _you're_ the Dark One. Or rather we are. It's all so technical," the other Emma said with a flourish of her hand. "Anyway, as I was saying, I really like it here." She fluffed Emma's golden curls and wiggled her hips around in her far-too-snug leather pants. Something about how she was using Emma's own body had her wanting to reach through the glass and choke her. Or herself. This was all very strange and disconcerting.

"And I promise to take really good care of it," the Dark One continued, still admiring all of Emma's assets in the mirror. Briefly, she wondered why the Dark One had chosen to look like some sort of leather fetishists dream. _If Killian could see me in this get-up, I'd never hear the end of it_ , she thought before it hit her that thinking about Killian was a really painful subject right now. It was better to focus on how annoyingly stuck-up this version of her sounded.

"So, don't worry you're pretty head about that. Wouldn't want to give us wrinkles after all. You know, it took a fair bit of magic on my part to keep us looking this good. See, when I took over your body, I realized something. Scales and creepy eyes… _so_ last century. The new Dark One needs a new image, don't you think? Something a bit more pleasing to the eye. And you my dear, are really quite the beauty."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it, bitch," Emma snapped.

Her other self merely smiled merrily, as if she was having the time of her life. "Ooh! I'm am really liking your enthusiasm! It will serve me well. I bet we are going to have so much fun together! And speaking of fun, how about that little treat I whipped up for you? Hmm? Wasn't that great?"

Emma clenched her fists, or at least she thought she did. The mirror Emma's hands didn't move. "You leave him out of it," she threatened.

The Dark One shrugged and grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't you want him to come and rescue you? I thought that was the plan? After all, it's what you told your parents before you vanished, right?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Emma, I'm _you_ ," she stated like it was completely obvious. "I have your memories, your emotions. Your looks," she twirled around again, this time admiring her, or rather, Emma's, ass. _Seriously? What was up with her obsession with Emma's body?_ "Well, except for one small little thing," the Dark One added pointedly.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Emma asked, only half listening while she paced around (or imagined she was pacing) trying her best to find a way to break free and regain control over her own body. Unfortunately, no matter how much she struggled, nothing happened.

Huffing in annoyance, her evil twin (as Emma was now referring to her) leaned in closer, her hand grabbing onto the scroll work surrounding the mirror. "Well, you see there's this really obnoxious little set-back in the way you became the Dark One. You took the curse by playing the hero and not by the preferred method, which is, you know, _murder_. So unfortunately, your heart was protected from the likes of me."

Emma smiled at this unexpected revelation. "You can't darken my heart," she concluded with a triumphant smirk.

Unfortunately, it was short-lived. "Oh, I can," her evil twin replied, a bright twinkle in her eye that couldn't mean anything good. "It will just be much more painful for you, I'm afraid. That little demonstration with Killian? That was just the tip of the iceberg. And your memories, Emma, are so deliciously painful, such a fertile soil to work with. I mean, I barely had to do anything, and already your heart has begun to blacken. Just think, next time it might be one with your parents. Or Henry. How long will it be before you break?" She asked with a raised brow. "My guess? Not long."

Recalling the way her heart literally felt like it was being squeezed when Hook had walked out, Emma knew the Dark One was telling the truth. She wished more than anything she had the ability to physically hurt this other her. Anything to relieve the fear and frustration she was feeling.

"What do you want?" Emma asked, trying to keep her emotions from coming through in her voice.

The Dark One tilted her head back and closed her eyes. "Oh, I want a great many things. Truthfully though, I just want what you want. I want to be loved. I want total loyalty. I want a family." She opened her eyes and stared into the mirror, the coldness cutting Emma like a knife. She saw her own shoulders shrug and a little half-smile on her lips. "But from you? I want you to give yourself over completely. Total submission. Accept this, and let us truly become one," she stated firmly, with just the smallest touch of menace. "We could do so much together; your magic and mine!"

So that was what the Dark One was after. She couldn't take Emma's heart or apparently, her magic. Whatever existence Emma was living in now, she still retained some measure of free will. And that was enough to keep the hope inside her alive. To keep fighting. "Listen here, bitch. You will _never_ get my heart willingly. I will not submit to you. You can try all you like, but I have hope in my family, and in Killian. They love me and will save me. And I love them. You can't take that."

With a very familiar (and slightly creepy) eye roll, the Dark One sighed. "I can see you are going to be stubborn about this. But that's okay. I can be patient. As for your family, well… I kind of doubt they're going to be able to get to you all that easily. In case you haven't noticed, you're not in Kansas anymore."

For the first time, Emma really looked at her surroundings. Through the glass frame of the mirror, she could see that she was in some sort of grand room with high wood beam ceilings, intricate tapestries, a large hearth with a roaring fire, and a four poster bed that looked like it could sleep an elephant. "No shit, but come on… an Oz reference? Really? Okay then, Queen of the Crazies, tell me. Where am I?"

The Dark One gestured to the room behind her and gave her an exasperated glare. "Um… _duh_ , the Enchanted Forest, of course. But don't worry, we won't be here long. And I'll be sure to give your loved ones my regards when we do meet again."

"What? No! I won't let you hurt them."

"Who said anything about hurting them? No, I have no intention of hurting them. I actually can't wait to see them again."

What the hell? She wasn't lying about not wanting to hurt them, but why would the Dark One want her family to come after her? Why would it want them to try and break the curse? This was bad, so very bad. "What are you going to do to them?"

"Oh, Emma, Emma, _Emma_. What fun would telling you be? I'd much rather show you."

Emma had had enough and she was tired of the Dark One's games. "God, what is it with you and the dramatic villain monologues? Is it like a mandatory requirement or something?" She spat.

For the first time, the Dark One's face seemed to fill with true excitement. She beamed back at herself. "See, I knew we'd have fun together! There is so much I admire about you, Emma. So much potential for darkness already inside. See, I've found that the people who have the strongest, most passionate hearts are those that can do the greatest evil. And you have such a big heart. So full of love. And so much magic pumping through your veins. _Mmmm_ ," she added as she traced her lips with her tongue.

Sickened by the display, Emma gathered together her emotions and steeled her heart. "I don't care how long it takes, I will fight you. I will not give in," she stated with fiery determination.

The Dark One scoffed. "I don't think so, dear. See, I know all your weaknesses, your deepest fears. I know _you_ , Emma Swan. And I know just how scared you are right now. You're all talk."

"Talk is cheap. I'm all action, bitch," Emma growled.

The other woman began laughing. She began to laugh so hard, she doubled over, clutching her stomach. When at last she could speak, she shook her head as she chuckled with total condescension. "You have no power, Emma. I'm the one in control. When you accepted that dagger, you took me in, and I made myself right at home. I'm not about to go anywhere. Not now. Not ever." Their eyes locked and Emma felt the cold slip of fear drift down her spine.

As if knowing just how unnerved Emma was feeling, the Dark One suddenly eased up, causing Emma to wonder what her game was. Whatever it was, Emma didn't trust. Not one bit. "But like I said, I'm in no rush. I've got a few things to take care of here while I wait for that family of yours. Actually, I think you might really enjoy this show. So sit back, relax, and get ready for the coming attractions."

A moment later, the Dark One stepped away from the mirror and Emma felt her world shift. Suddenly, she was viewing the room from inside her own body, but it was like she was sitting in a control room while someone else pulled all the strings. She felt so disconnected from any sort of physical sensation, it was a bit like watching television. With horror, Emma knew that she was about to be forced to watch as the Dark One paraded around in her body doing god-know-what and there would be nothing Emma could do to stop it.

She was a prisoner all over again.

She steeled herself for the show.

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 **Reviews?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- Wow...covered a lot in this chapter. Finally, some of the Henry/Hook dynamic is explored. Also, some clues to where Merlin might be. And Hook gets a surprise visitor.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

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 _"Courage is not having the strength to go on; it is going on when you don't have the strength."_  
― Theodore Roosevelt

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 **Chapter 4: The Stages of Change-Determination**

Killian sat on the quarterdeck of his ship, staring up into the starry sky and thinking about Emma. That small glimpse he had gotten of her just left him with more questions. However, he now completely believed the Crocodile's warning about it not being Emma. There was no way the person he saw in that magic orb was his Emma in any way, no matter how much she acted or sounded or even looked like her. There was something so fundamentally different. Emma had always had something about her that was like a glow. It warmed and strengthened all those she came into contact with, whether she recognized it or not. Even when she was angry, her love and concern was always the most noticeable thing about her. It was what drew him to her in the first place. Her ability to love so selflessly made him put aside his old, villainous ways and try to be a better person.

That Emma, the one that stared into his eyes and into his soul, was pure darkness. He could it in the way his whole body went cold, the way he wanted to recoil from her gaze. When she looked at him, all of darkest moments flashed before his eyes, as his skin crawled. So when she spoke to him, it wasn't Emma, it was the Dark One, driving home the point that it knew him, it knew Killian's name, and it still wanted him. This feud between them was far from over.

Tonight though, his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help but worry about Emma. Was she still there? Could she fight back? Did she know they were looking for her? For some reason, his heart told him that some small part of her was still Emma. He knew it was a fool's hope to believe it, but he wasn't able to shake the notion. Maybe he just couldn't accept that the woman he loved was gone, but that wasn't what it felt like. It felt true in a way that he just couldn't explain.

 _Emma, hold on, love. Just hold on,_ he prayed to the stars up above.

Against his will, his mind played out the discussions of the last few days. Although every effort was made, no clue as to Merlin's whereabouts had been forthcoming. Every search turned up dead end after dead end, and once more the despair of not being able to help Emma started to weigh everyone down. Tempers were short, patience was thin, and everyone seemed to be at each other's throats.

The other problem they had was how to travel to the Enchanted Forest or some other realm. For that, they would need a way to create a portal. Countless hours had been spent arguing about ways to create a portal with little to no answers. At this point, Killian was ready to cast a curse himself if it meant helping Emma.

The hope he had felt was dwindling again, and he knew he needed to find a way to keep it going or he would end up right back where he was a week ago. He couldn't afford that. Emma needed him, and he had to stay strong no matter how much his heart continued to shatter.

Suddenly, Killian felt a chill race through his spine, as a fresh ocean breeze zipped across the Jolly. With it, came the oddest sensation of hope. Though he couldn't explain it, his heart felt lighter than it had in ages.

Before he knew it, however, the cool spring breeze had faded back into the atmosphere from which it came. The lightness lingered, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. Whatever had caused the change, though, he was thankful. Maybe this night he would be able to sleep soundly and dream only of Emma's sweet kisses. Reluctantly, he sighed and stepped down off the quarterdeck on his way towards the stairs to his cabin below, when he heard a noise behind him.

"Hello, Hook," said a voice he was quite certain he would never hear again.

Killian whirled around, holding up his hook warily and wishing he had thought to grab his sword. "Ursula? To what do I owe the pleasure? I'm afraid if you've come to throw me off my ship, you'll have to try harder than last time."

"I'm not here for that, although it is tempting," she smiled pleasantly, a look on her he hadn't seen in many, many years, and Killian dropped his hook arm ever so slightly. "I've come because I believe you might need my help."

"You're here to help?" He asked with no small amount of sarcasm.

"Is that so hard to believe? You did give me back my happy ending. I've worked things out with my father, and I realized something: I don't want to be a villain anymore. I was so angry with my father and you, that I had forgotten all about the things I used to love…like helping people." Hook raised a brow in disbelief which only earned him an annoyed huff from the sea witch. "Besides, I know about Emma."

"Ah," Killian answered, dropping his arm and collapsing onto a nearby barrel. Every time he heard her name, it was like a small knife had pierced his heart. He waved Ursula towards a crate and she sat down as well, smoothing out her tight green skirt and sitting demurely. "I suppose it's not much of a secret anymore. What do you know?"

She looked away for a moment, out across the waters, her mahogany eyes filled with heaviness. "Hook, I've been to the Enchanted Forest." At this, Killian sat up abruptly, his interest peaked. She didn't look back at him, but he could now see the worry in her brow that she had been trying to hide. "My father had heard rumors that a darkness was spreading in that land. So he sent me to investigate."

"Did you find Emma?" Killian asked excitedly, failing at keeping his emotions in check.

She turned back to him with a look of sincere apology. "Let's just say, I wasn't prepared for what I found."

His heart thundered in his chest. "And what did you find?"

"Evil. A great, horrible evil spreading across the lands, all thanks to the new Dark One."

"Emma," he supplied. It shouldn't have shocked him, not after what he had heard and seen, but it did.

Ursula nodded sadly, a look of sympathy in her eyes. "Yes. I couldn't get close to her, the Dark One's castle is heavily fortified. I only know what I've heard of in rumors. It didn't take long to piece together what had happened."

"And how would you help? Do you or your father possess magic enough to destroy the Dark One?" He hated the way his voice gave away his emotions, but he couldn't stop himself.

With a sigh, Ursula shook her head. "No," she replied, but then something seemed to occur to her. "We still have squid ink, we could trap her. But that is only temporary, and I don't think you're interested in killing _this_ Dark One."

Killian couldn't keep his mind from flashing with images of Emma trapped once more by him in Rumple's old cell. Only this time, she wore a feral sneer on her face and her eye's raged fire and hate. Like a hungry beast in a cage.

He was so lost, he barely heard what Ursula said next. "Besides, that won't be enough to stop the spread of evil that is happening. Come back to the Enchanted Forest. I can open a portal for your ship. You need to stop her before this gets worse."

"Don't you think I know that!" He roared suddenly, kicking the barrel out from beneath him in a sudden fit of rage. "There is no way! Only Merlin can stop it, and nobody bloody knows where the hell he is!"

Ursula stood up at his outburst and threw out her hands. "Hook. I'm sorry. I know how much Emma means to you," she said in a gentler voice than he would have deemed her capable of. Immediately, he was taken back to their meeting at the tavern, when she was a just a bright-eyed optimistic young girl who truly wanted to help people forget their troubles.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed heavily. "No, you really don't. However, I apologize for my rudeness," he said sincerely. "This was not your fault, lass."

Stepping aside to retrieve the barrel he had kicked, he realized that her presence as a former villain might not be all that welcome. After all, he was treated as one far longer than he would have liked. "Emma's loss really hurt this town, and everyone is struggling. I'm afraid you might not find them to be very receptive of your offer."

With a small knowing smile, she said, "No, I don't suppose they'll listen to an old villain like me, which is why I came to you," she added as she crossed her arms and smirked.

Catching the meaning, Killian reluctantly agreed. "Perhaps you're right, love. I shall speak with them first."

"Tell them I want to help and that I will be here if you need me. Maybe you can't bring Emma back yet, but you will find Merlin, Hook. I know you, you won't rest until she's safe. In the meantime, perhaps I can keep an eye on things there for you?"

Killian felt taken aback by her generous offer. Truly it was more than he'd dared hope for. "Aye. That would be most appreciated, milady. I'm sure Regina and Emma's parents would welcome any news that you could bring them."

She sighed, the worry in her eyes revealing that things were far more dire than they had yet realized. "Even if it's not good news?"

"Anything is better than just waiting in the dark. And thank you for the offer of the portal. I'm sure that will be news of a more welcome sort."

She shrugged at him, turning to pick at the seams in her jacket. "Sure. No problem. It's what heroes do, right?"

He took a step closer, so that she could read the gratitude in his expression. "Aye, milady. I'm glad to have you on our side."

"Oh, so you're 'team hero' now?" She teased.

"Aye. For Emma, I am," he stated firmly.

She stepped closer to him, placing a hand upon his hook arm. "You must really love her."

"More than anything in this realm or any other," he said, his voice cracking with the truth of it.

Their eyes met and she seemed to study him before slightly tilting her head to the side. "Coming from you, I believe it."

….

True to his word, Killian reported his conversation with the sea witch. After a long debate with the others over her trustworthiness, it was decided that would take her offer. However, they all agreed that her assistance was to be kept a secret between Killian, Emma's parents, Regina, and Robin. The town of Storybrooke was not yet ready to accept another villain into their fold at the moment, not with the Savior missing.

Ursula's news really wasn't good, but after what they had already heard from Rumple and seen with their own eyes, it wasn't that surprising. She told them about how the last of those who had survived the curse had slowly been rebuilding their lives. Until one day, a darkness seemed to descend upon the land, casting it into a never-ending shadow. With the shadow came new threats. It was said that old monsters, long extinct, were rising once more. There were reports of men, mercenaries and soldiers, all of them bloodthirsty and evil, who were seen arriving in the forest and headed for the Dark One's castle. All in all, it seemed as though the Dark One was gathering an army. But for what purpose?

After her news, David and Mary Margaret declared that they needed to go back to the Enchanted Forest immediately. It took all of Regina's effort to convince them to at least sleep on it and wait a day or two before coming to any decisions. Ursula promised that she would be back in three days' time with more news about their home and Emma, and they could let her know then what their decision would be.

Deciding that everyone needed to rest and reflect, they adjourned back to their homes for the evening (except for Regina and Robin, who's house had become the unofficial command center), and meet up for supper as usual tomorrow.

One thing was clear, it seemed more imperative than ever that Merlin be found and that Emma be saved, but as he walked along the empty streets towards his ship, Killian couldn't help but feel that time was running out.

….

Henry awoke suddenly, the dream still pounding through his head. It wasn't the first time since his mom went missing that he had had nightmares, but this dream went beyond that. It was remarkably vivid, filled with flashes of images so strong and so real it didn't feel at all like a dream. His heart pounded in his chest, as he tried to recall everything that he had seen.

Sitting up and brushing away the strands of his slightly sweaty hair, he knew that the dream was important. Henry got up quickly and flicked on the light at his desk. It only took a minute for him to locate the notebook he had been using to keep track of all the information on Merlin they had accumulated. Quickly flipping through the pages, he arrived at the back where a few unused sheets still resided. He began to write.

For Henry, being the Author really hadn't amounted to a whole lot so far. He didn't really have any magic, like his moms. His one chance at really changing things had ended when he had broken the quill, something which he struggled with daily. Some days, the regret over not being able to help his mom made him want to curl up in a ball and never leave his bed. His other mom helped, his grandparents helped, but they were struggling, too. All he knew was that his heart ached so much from missing his mom, that the way he felt when he had woke up all alone in Storybrooke all those weeks ago was a pale imitation to the pain he felt now.

He knew dwelling on his pain wouldn't bring his mom back. That's not what she would want him to do. So he focused instead on trying to find Merlin. One thing about being the Author that he did notice, was that when it came to writing reading, he was able to recall and record things in perfect detail. And the words just seemed to come to him so easily, like they were just waiting at his fingertips, itching to be wrote down.

Like now. The whole of the dream was there on the page before he had even had time to realize he was writing. He scanned over what he had written with a frown. Writing it down had helped it solidify in his mind, but it definitely didn't make the dream any more understandable.

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the need to tell someone about his dream. As quietly as he could, Henry ripped the pages out of the notebook and shuffled around the room looking for his clothes, while debating with himself what he should do. Should he wake his grandparents? They had been up late into the night with his baby Uncle Neal, having a hard time getting the infant to settle down. Henry himself had been kept up late by the constant whimpering cries as Neal struggled with what appeared to be an upset stomach. Or maybe Neal was just feeling the loss of his sister, like they all were. Even though he loved his grandparents and Neal, sometimes, he regretted staying at their loft. He usually felt guilty for feeling that way, but he was an (almost) teenager and having to put up with a crying baby could wear on anyone's patience.

Picking up a pair of pants that had been thrown over his chair, Henry decide waking his grandparents at 5:05 am (according to the clock by his bed) was a really bad idea, even if it was important. It was far too early to call his mom, even though he knew she would want to hear about the dream. Even though she hadn't said anything, Henry knew she hadn't been sleeping well since Emma took the Dark Curse meant for her, and he didn't want to risk waking her if she was asleep.

And oddly enough, it wasn't his grandparents or his mom that came to mind when he thought about the dream, it was Killian. Pushing away the thought the instant it crossed his mind, he decided instead to just take a walk and wait until everyone else was awake to tell them. The last thing he wanted right now was talk to Killian.

Trying not to make any noise as he moved about, Henry finished getting his clothes on and jammed the pages into his coat pocket. He wrote a quick note out to his grandparents explaining where he was going just in case they did wake up, and left it on the bed.

A minute later, he let himself out the door and sprinted down the stairs into the crisp predawn morning air. Letting his feet carry him down the familiar streets of Storybrooke, he couldn't but wonder why he felt that it was Killian he should tell. Of course, Henry knew the pirate would believe him, that was never in doubt. Killian had always took him seriously and never treated him like just a little kid. It was one of the things he really liked about him. It was just that, right now, every time he thought about Killian, he got angry. He wasn't even sure why he was feeling that way, but ever since the day that he had found Killian in the cannery, half alive and _reeking_ of fish and stale alcohol, he had grown increasingly more aggravated by the man's presence. He hated that look he saw in his eyes that day. The painful, awful look of someone who had lost everything. For some reason, it had hurt Henry more deeply than he could say.

Instead, Henry decided it was best to push Killian away, trying to avoid him as much as he could. Unfortunately, circumstances just kept throwing back into each other's paths.

Like now.

When he heard the unmistakable squawk of a seagull, Henry looked up and was shocked to discover he was standing at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the Jolly Roger. Why did he end up in the last place he wanted to be? Maybe if he turned back now, no one would see him. There had to be somewhere else that he could hang out at for a few hours.

As luck would have it, he had also forgotten that Killian was an early riser, and just as he turned to go, he heard the unmistakable lilt of the pirate call out to him from the deck. "Henry, lad? What are you doing here at this hour? Is everything alright?"

Scrunching up his shoulders, Henry fought off the sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue and shrugged instead. "Sure, everything's fine. Just felt like going for a walk."

Killian eyed him, and even from this distance, Henry could feel the intensity of Hook's stare as he attempted to read him. Henry flinched at the thought that the man was always a little too perceptive when it came to him. "Well, why don't you come up then, lad, and I'll take you out to watch the sunrise."

Again, Henry thought about just leaving and going back to the loft, a screaming infant more preferable company than Hook at the moment, but despite the animosity he was feeling towards Killian, the images from the dream still danced in his thoughts. Clenching his fist tightly around the papers in his pocket, he took a step towards the ship. "Okay, sure."

"Wait, lad. Why don't you grab those moorings before you head up?"

Henry nodded, glad to have something to occupy him and began loosening the ropes as he had been taught. Once all the lines were unattached, Henry scrambled up the wooden staircase and jumped the widening gap over to the gangway.

Once aboard, Henry looked up to see Killian's puzzled face. "Do your grandparents know where you are, lad?"

"I left a note," he responded with a curt shrug, dodging past the pirate and taking up one of his favorite spot on the forecastle deck right up next to the bowsprit.

Killian sighed, but said no more about it, moving around the decks with precise, practiced motions, unfurling the sails and tying down the lines once they were in place. When he was finished, and the sails began to catch the wind, he called for Henry to take the wheel.

Scrambling across the deck and up the stairs, Henry couldn't help but grin as he approached the large wooden wheel. He had steered the ship several times, but almost always with Killian's direct input. This time, he stayed below, clearly allowing the boy to put into practice all he had learned on his own.

"Steer us out into the harbor, lad, but mind that you don't hit those blasted buoys like you did before," Killian commanded, slipping in a cheeky smirk that meant he was only teasing. Normally, Henry would have smiled right back at him or at least gave him a witty remark, but the tease was sitting uneasy with him today. The shadow, which had momentarily eased with his excitement about the ship, returned once more.

"I won't," Henry snapped, and Killian dropped the rope in his hand with a heavy thud, his back arching as if he had been whipped. Suddenly, Henry felt incredibly guilty. Deep down, he knew he was being unfair, but when he looked at the man who was now slumped against the lower rails, all he could see was the same man he had rescued from his demons.

 _He gave up on her,_ flashed across Henry's thoughts before he was even aware of it.

Releasing a deep breath, Henry turned back to the task at hand, trying to reign in his anger. Before long, the Jolly was well away from the shore and the sun was just peeking out over the horizon, turning the world around them into burnished silver and gold. Despite whatever mood he was in, the sight never failed to take Henry's breath away.

"'Tis beautiful," Killian commented, suddenly appearing on the stairway next to the wheel, and watching him closely with a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah," Henry agreed, moving away from the wheel to let Killian take over.

He could feel Killian observing his every movement, but for some reason, the anger he had felt only minutes before didn't come back. In its place, there was only a tense silence as they stood there together, watching the sun rise in the distance.

When the sky was a pale blue and the sun had completely cleared the horizon, Killian spoke suddenly. "Alright, lad. You care to tell me what's been going on with you?"

Henry frowned, knowing this conversation was coming, yet dreading it. His issue with the pirate wasn't something he was ready to talk about, so instead he opted for distraction-the reason he found himself wandering down to the docks in the first place. "I had a dream."

Staring hard, Killian raised a brow and crossed his arms as he leaned back against stern railing. "I take it that this dream wasn't particularly pleasant, as you aren't known for your fondness of rising before dawn."

Henry shook his head, knitting his brow in frustration. "No, I mean, it wasn't a nightmare. Or a dream, really. It was something different. I can't really explain it."

Killian studied him for a moment, clearly trying to determine the truth in his words, before launching into a story. "I knew a man once. He was a seer, and he used to have prophetic dreams. He used to say that they felt different from nightmares, too. 'It's like a memory of something that has not yet happened," he told me." He then reached down into a crate beside him and pulled out an orange. He held it up and shook it slightly, asking him silently if he wanted one.

Taking it, Henry began peeling it as he thought about the story. Suddenly, his mouth fell open, the fruit forgotten. "Wait. You think I'm having visions?"

Popping a slice of orange into his mouth with his hook, Killian asked, "What do you think, lad? What does your gut tell you?"

"It wasn't just a dream," Henry stated definitively, recalling how it felt like he needed to remember it clearly when he woke up. "Do you think this is part of being the Author?"

Scratching at his beard with the back of his knuckles, Killian nodded. "Aye, perhaps it is. Have you noticed anything else happening to you?"

"No," Henry replied curtly, gritting his teeth against the sudden onslaught of guilt he felt whenever he remembered what he had done with that quill. He hoped Killian hadn't noticed, and he quickly stuffed the peeled orange into his mouth to hide his emotions.

Killian merely hummed to himself, his brow lifting in clear disbelief. "How about you tell me about this dream then, lad? Maybe together we can make sense of it."

Henry nodded eagerly, again feeling the need to tell Killian what he had seen. "I actually wrote it down," he said as he pulled the crinkled papers from his coat. "It started pretty normal, I guess. I remember I was sailing… on the Jolly, I think," Henry flushed with sudden embarrassment, but if Killian noticed, he didn't let on. "And it seemed like there was water everywhere I looked, but when I tried to get a closer look, I could tell it wasn't water. It was clouds, like this sort of mistiness everywhere." It was harder now, even with the writing in front of him, to explain just how the world of the vision had looked. He had been surrounded by grey fog. Everywhere he looked, there was only a swirl of white clouds and grey fog. And the ship. The ship rocked lightly back and forth, just as it was doing now. He also didn't know how to describe the horrible loneliness in his vision.

"Anyway," he continued. "I kept sailing for a while, until all of a sudden, I could make out a shape in the distance. I could tell I was sailing towards some sort of island. As it got closer, I could see that there was a beach with pure white sand, then a dark forest of strangely curved trees farther in. And right in the center, there was this mountain. Tall, with white clouds circling around it." He paused, taking a breath and watching for Killian's reaction.

The pirate's face was carefully blank, but Henry could see he was very interested in the vision. There was no doubt that Killian believed what he was saying was real. Henry sighed inwardly with relief. He didn't realize just how worried he had been that he wouldn't be taken seriously. It felt nice to have someone believe him.

He picked up where he left off, hardly missing a beat. "Then, the dream changed and I remember being on top of the mountain all of a sudden. I don't know why, but I just knew that's where I was. But it wasn't like rocks and stuff. It was grassy and flat, and there was this sort of ring of large stones, like Stonehenge, at the top."

"Stonehenge?" Killian asked suddenly.

Henry waved his hand in a vague circle, trying to recall what he knew. "Um, yeah it's this place in England with this large circle of carved stones. Some people think that it was built by the druids. Um, druids are sort of like ancient wizards, I guess."

Killian gave him an odd look and frowned. "Indeed. Does this Stonehenge also reside on a mountain?"

"No. I think it's in a field. But the stones in my dream were only, like, half the size of those," he held his hand up above his head indicating their size.

Seeming disheartened, Killian merely stroked at his jaw again. "So this is not the place your dream was referring to?"

"No, I guess not," Henry answered, realizing that the look he was seeing on Killian was disappointment. Quickly, he decided it was best just to finish the tale. "So I started walking towards it. In the center of the stones, I saw a man. He was dressed in a blue robe and he had a long, white beard that went to his waist. And it looked like he was asleep or something—he was just lying there on a flat stone. I remember walking closer, but as I reached him, his eyes popped open." Henry's mouth went dry as he recalled the man's eyes. They had been like nothing he had ever seen before. They were amber and gold, the color of fire and magic. It nearly stopped his heart. "He…he grabbed my arm and leaned over. I could barely hear him, and as he whispered to me, I woke up."

Killian leaned forward bracing himself on his knee. "And what did he say to you, my boy?"

Henry watched the way Killian's leg was trembling, echoing the nerves and jitters that coursed through him as well, as if they both could feel the call of something _bigger_. For the first time since he boarded, Henry looked Killian straight in the eye as saw the mix of hope and fear etched into his face. "Avalon. I kept hearing the word _Avalon_."

The silence that followed felt like it went on forever, only broken by the gentle lapping of water on the hull. Henry dropped his gaze, looking back out to the horizon, but only seeing the golden eyed man.

Finally, the moment seemed to pass and Killian shook himself out of it. "I've been to many a land, Henry, but I've never heard of such a place," he commented.

With a shrug, Henry answered, "It seems sort of familiar to me, but I don't really know where I heard it. Maybe I read it somewhere, or saw it in a movie."

"You think you're vision had something to do with those moving pictures you like so much?"

"No," he replied quickly, rolling his eyes at Killian's annoyance with this world's technology. "But…but I think it has something to do with Merlin."

The pirate's head shot up. "Merlin? Why's that?"

Henry did his best to explain the jumble of thoughts and theories he had floating around in his head. How do you explain to someone who's never seen 'The Sword in the Stone' what Merlin is traditionally supposed to look like? "Because of the old man. He looked like the way I always pictured Merlin in my mind, you know. The beard, the robes, the wise old man thing. It makes sense, though, right? I mean, why else would I have a vision about an island and an old guy?"

Killian took a deep breath and offered him a small smile that slowly began to grow along with the bright twinkle in his eye. "Aye, I believe you may be right. We should get back, Henry. We've wasted enough bloody time already." He jumped down from the rail and quickly set about turning the ship.

Hope was contagious. And Henry found himself smiling right along with the pirate as they shifted the lines and redirected the sails. "Do you think people will believe me about the dream?" Henry asked softly, his mouth voicing his hidden fears before he could stop himself.

Instantly, Killian was at his side, kneeling down in front of him. With a firm grip to his shoulder, he forced Henry to look him squarely in the eye. "Of course I do. You're amazing and brilliant, just like your mother," he added with a faint hitch in his voice. "They'd be daft not to believe you, and you'll have me there to _persuade_ them, if need be," he added with a little wiggle of his hook.

Grateful that Henry had finally opened up to him, Killian seemed like he wanted to press farther, like there was a lot of still unsaid things between them, but knew that now was not the time. "Perhaps we should go straight to the library. Maybe the Lady Belle has heard of this _Avalon_."

"What about Gold?" Henry asked with an almost imperceptible smirk.

Glaring back at the boy, he growled, "Aye, if need be, I suppose we should ask your grandfather as well."

The wind it seemed, was in their favor, as the breeze began to blow through the sails. Henry couldn't keep the smile off his face, and by the looks of it neither could Killian. They both could feel the excitement in the air. At last, it seemed their luck had truly turned around.

"Come on, Henry, lad!" Killian shouted. "Your mother is out there, depending on us, and we've no time to lose!"

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 **Reviews are always appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- Sorry this took so long. It was a BEAST of a chapter to write and I really hope you like it. This one is a bit strange, as it is from the DO's POV, and finding a voice for her was really difficult. She's a bit of mix between sarcastic Emma, the Evil Queen, and Gold. She will not call anyone 'dearie', although I almost wanted her to.**

 **First, a few things to keep in mind:**

 **-The DO is influenced by all of Emma's thoughts, fears, emotions, etc., even though it is an external source and has its own agenda and thoughts.**

 **-Did I mention that this fic might include some smut? There are some racier moments in this and more in later chapters.**

 **-Emma is trapped inside her body with no control over the DO's actions. All she can do is speak and shout. The reflection of Emma in the mirror is just a device the DO uses to allow Emma the illusion of a body. Sometimes, even the DO hates talking to herself.**

 **-All telepathic/internal conversation are in italics. Emma only can speak internally, so the DO is the only person who can hear her.**

 **-Did I mention violence? Pretty sure I rated this thing 'M' for a reason.**

 **Please feel free to pm me with any questions you might. I hope everything is fairly clear, though. Also, this is not beta'd so any mistakes are entirely my own.**

 **I love reviews, so feel free to hit me up with your thoughts! You can also msg me on Tumlr under** ** _drowned-dreamer_** **with any ideas or theories** ** _._**

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 _"We make our own monsters, then fear them for what they show us about ourselves."_  
― Mike Carey, _The Unwritten, Vol. 1: Tommy Taylor and the Bogus Identity_

 _"She is so lovely she could kill you without you even noticing it. A monster girl who knows when to kiss and when to kill."_  
― Cameron Jace, _Snow White Sorrow_

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 **CHAPTER 5: Stages of Life- Childhood (Playfulness, Imagination, and Ingenuity)**

"They are here?" The Dark One asked as she swayed down the hallway, the dead-eyed servant following closely behind.

"They are, Your Majesty," he replied tonelessly.

"Good. Have them wait for me in the throne room. I shall be there shortly," she commanded and waved him away.

As she took a look at the world she would soon command through the castle window, the new Dark One caught a glimpse of her reflection and smiled. Emma Swan had no idea the effect her beauty had on people, but the Dark One did, and for the first time in eons, it was able to use lust as a weapon. She waved her hand over her body and the leather corset shimmered and was replaced by a black gown that flared out from her waist and pooled along the floor. The raven wings and silver thread that made up the base glittered like starlight at the fading of the sun. Another wave of her hand and her hair was pinned up in a high dome, with soft curls framing the obsidian and diamond crown she donned on her brow. Her eyes were outlined in deepest black and the only color on her face was to be found in the blood red of her lips. Pleased with the result, the Dark One continued down the corridor to meet with the group of men who had come to call.

 _"Emma? Are you there?"_ Her silent words were spoken directly to the woman whose body she'd stolen. " _What am I saying, of course you are. Now, I want you to pay close attention. Welcome to 'Being the Dark One 101'_ , _and today's lesson is all about how to make people worship you."_ She closed her eyes, listening to the small voice of the real Emma as it cursed and screamed at her. With a smile, she added, " _And yes, there will be a test on this later, so make sure you take notes."_

Flinging the heavy wooden door open with a flick of her wrist, she gracefully stormed into her throne room, not deigning to acknowledge the gathering of about two dozen men until she had climbed the stairs to the dais and was seated up her throne of black iron. When at last she spoke, her voice was soft and delicate, full of tenderness and care. The gentle tones of a shy and unassuming woman. She had to keep herself from laughing at the deviousness of her plan. "Gentlemen, I welcome you to my castle."

Watching her arrive, the men became angry and confused. A rumble of discontent stirred among them. The Dark One knew why they had come, however, and was not at all surprised by their reaction. She was pleased to see that the men gathered were swarthy and rough, many with a truly chilling look in their eye that said they had no problem with evil deeds. She knew they had come to the castle because they had heard rumors of a new power in the land and were seeking a ruler who was equally as ruthless as they were. They wanted someone who would lead them to power and glory. Clearly what they had in mind did not include some feathered princess decked in black. Men were so easily to manipulate.

As the Dark One continued to sit demurely, studying each of the men closely in turn, a slow titter of laughter began to spread among them.

"Is something funny?" She asked, tilting her head and adding a slightly exaggerated pout. Fluttering her lashes for good measure, she pitched her voice similar to that of a vapid cheerleader. "I love a good joke!" She cooed, clapping her hands together. "Perhaps someone would like to share?"

One of the men, a large hulking beast, with a chest and shoulders built from years of wielding heavy weaponry, stepped forward _. Ah, so this was their leader_ , she thought. _Perfect. He shall do nicely._

"Excuse us, _Your Majesty_ ," he said with a cold sneer and a low baritone voice, "but we were told that the Dark One was gathering an army. Not some little girl pretending to be a queen." From beside him, a taller man with dark hair and faint beard stood silently, hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword. From the similarities in their facial features, it was clear the two of them were related.

The Dark One rose, smoothing out her skirts and crooked a finger at the first man seductively. She smiled as he approached the throne with a confident swagger, clearly not trying to hide the way he was ogling the mound of her breasts. _So predictable._ "You know, I am actually a princess, not a queen," she confessed, still keeping a sweet smile about her lips. "But that's okay. I don't really care for titles anyway. What I care about is _devotion_. Do you know what devotion is, mister-?"

"I'm called Brax, M'lady. And I know well what devotion is," He turned his back to her and nudged the other man with his elbow. He merely nodded back at him and gave him an encouraging smile. Then Brax raised a fist to the crowd as he shouted, "I am devoted to seeing my enemies head's on a pike! I am devoted to making them cower down in fear and weep like children!" The men roared their approval and he turned back to her with a gloating grin.

She matched his smile and raised an eyebrow. "That's impressive. But I meant _me_. Do you think you could feel that level of devotion towards _me_?" She pursed her lips and purposefully let her hips sway towards him.

He didn't miss the gesture and his leering smile grew. The animalistic lust darkening his eyes didn't seem to detract him from his purpose, however. "No offense, _princess_ , but my men's devotion is not easily bought. We have come seeking power and glory. A way to destroy our enemies and make them suffer. What would a pampered princess know of such things? I will not pledge my allegiance to a ruler who has yet to prove themselves, no matter how _prettily_ they wrap the offer." Without warning, he reached forward, stroking a heavy finger through the cleft of her breasts, before squeezing her painfully through her corset. Leaning forward, he added, "But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't happily _devote_ some time to making you scream my name."

The Dark One stepped back sharply, away from his touch. Never did she break eye contact with him, though, making him think she was willing to play his game. Leaning over, she gave him a full view of her _assets_ and whispered, "You have no idea what true suffering is. It is I who will have you screaming my name."

Before he could even so much as lick his lips, she had turned away from him, addressing the crowd in a louder, more demanding voice. All the men's eyes were on her, many of them looking at her as if she was a piece of meat to be devoured. It was precisely what she had been hoping for. "So, it's a demonstration you want? Well, I have just the thing in mind."

The men roared once more, this time adding bawdy words and catcalls into their mocking laughter. She paid them no mind, as she slithered down from the dais and made her way towards the crowd of men, swaying her hips as she went. As she passed through them, she began to run her hands along the some of the men, touching their arms, their chest, or their cheeks. Innocent gestures, on the outside, but no one noticed the shift in the air or the tingle of dark magic surrounding her. Soon though, they would know just how powerful she truly was.

She took her time with them, taunting and teasing, while she planned her next move. There were a million ways she could earn the respect and devotion of the men in this room. But when she had first seen the two brothers, she knew exactly how she wanted this game to be played.

It didn't take long for her to reach Brax's brother. He was standing off to the side, watching her with a keen blue eye and a worried gaze. Up close, he was a bit more handsome than she had given him credit for. Where his brother was broad-shouldered, he was lean, his tall frame suggested speed more than raw power. Where Brax was light-haired and clean-shaven, this man was dark and scruffier. For a fleeting moment, another man with dark hair appeared in her mind, but when she looked into his eyes, she felt a sudden shock of disconnect. They were all wrong. His eyes weren't the color of the sea in the morning, they didn't look upon her like she was the sun. She shook her head to clear the errant thought away. What did it matter to the Dark One what color this man's eyes were?

Fighting of her sudden repulsion of him, she pulled him from the crowd. While the other men hooted and whistled at her boldness, she began to slowly run a hand up from his stomach to his chest. Under her palm she could feel the man's heart race with desire and hunger. She allowed herself to relish in the feeling of power she held over him.

"Relax," she purred, and he leered down at her with a twisted smile. With the just the tip of her index finger, she ran a spiral around his chest, stopping at the dead center above his heart.

From the corner of her awareness, she noticed Brax making his way through the crowd, a clear look of jealousy upon his face. It made her smile even more. Already this was so much fun!

Just as he was about to break through, no doubt in order to take what he deemed his, she held up her other hand in the air and said, "Boys, stop him."

Suddenly, the crowd which had fallen into an anticipatory silence, broke apart. The men who she had touched earlier, about ten in all, quickly surrounded Brax on every side, effectively halting his progress.

"Hey! You'd better move your asses out of my way," He shouted at them, trying to order his men to move away. None of them so much as flinched.

"What the hell is going on here?" He growled, looking at her angrily. "Let me go!" He said, shoving the man in front of him.

"Oh, they can't hear you, buddy," The Dark One answered. She shrugged and returned her attention back to the other brother. He was focused on his brother and trying to move past her in order to come to his aid, only her hand still resting on his heart stopped him. His brow knit in confusion, wondering how a delicate thing like her could have the strength in one hand to prevent him from moving.

"Why the hell not? What's wrong with them?" Brax roared, now trying to barrel through the ring of men. Despite his strong arms and back, not a single man moved out of place. It was if they were no longer men, but walls of granite and stone.

"Because they belong to me," she answered in a bored tone. The other brother was growing angry at his inability to move, but hadn't yet uttered a word. A quick assessment of his body with her magic told her the reason. It seemed he had had his tongue cut out at some point in his life. Filing that away for an interesting punishment option for future use, she began to let her true nature show.

Her voice took on the cold indifference of one who was in complete control, and her eyes sparked with malice. "See, taking a heart is messy business. Plunging your hand inside their chest, finding a place to store it, trying not to crush it until the perfect moment…" she sighed indignantly, "So much work just to control someone. I mean, it is fun, don't get me wrong, but it's rather old school." She smiled over her shoulder at Brax, letting him see the true blackness in her eyes. He stopped his attempts at escape for a moment and she knew then that he realized just how much he had underestimated her. And she wasn't done yet. " _Corrupting_ a heart, though. Well, it's so much easier. All it takes is a _touch_."

She could see the moment it dawned on him that she had his brother at her mercy. She delighted in the way the horror filled his eyes as the truth washed over him. He began to shout, calling his brother's name, and telling him to get away.

But it was far too late for that.

The oxygen felt as if it had been sucked from the air. No one made a sound, feeling the gathering presence of a surge of dark magic. The mute brother's eyes widened in horror as a dark, inky magic began seeping from her fingers and spreading over his chest, absorbing into his skin upon contact. She could hear Brax still yelling- _Let him go, you witch bitch! If you harm him, I will end you!-_ but she ignored it, immersed in the wondrous beauty of a soul being consumed by her darkness. Instantly, his whole body convulsed, the veins in his skin engorging with tendrils of black magic, and the whites of his eyes turned briefly to onyx. When it was done, he returned to normal. His mouth went slack, as all external thought, all the anger at his brother's predicament, his own free will even, completely and totally forgotten. Now, he belonged to her.

"There now? Isn't that nice? Don't you feel better?" She purred, running her nails down his chest and abs.

The man bobbed his head like an obedient dog and even gave her a lolling smile.

"Good boy," she chuckled as she patted his arm. "How about we play a game?" He nodded sharply and his face lit up in excitement. "Good. See that man there?" She pointed to Brax, who was _still_ yelling for his brother to snap out of it. She rolled her eyes in annoyance at his pigheadedness. It was time to shut him up for good.

"He's been mean to me," she told her slave, pouting like a three-year-old. "He doubted that I was bad enough for him. And he touched me without permission. I think he needs to be made an example of, don't you." The silent man nodded eagerly once more. She licked her lips as she debated a fitting punishment. She didn't miss the way the rest of the men had backed far away from their little group, but were watching with anticipation. Definitely her kind of scum. Still, no sense in taking chances, and with a flick of her wrist she sent the men guarding Brax off to guard all the exits to the room.

"Back in the world I came from, there was a game there called _Operation_. Kind of annoying, really. But I think you might enjoy the general concept." With a flick of her wrist, not only was Brax suddenly tied down to a table that had appeared out of thin air, but his brother now wielded a rusty, dull-looking surgical knife. The tongue-less man stared down at the weapon in his hand and then back up at her as if asking for permission.

She shrugged, and said, "Go ahead and play."

Brax's shouts soon turned to screams as he began to operate and the Dark One returned to her black throne. The remaining men huddled together and looked upon her with a guarded kind of fascination. Right now, though, her attention was elsewhere, as she watched the light dying in Brax's eyes and the spreading pool of blood from beneath him. Oddly, she felt a sudden urge to eat popcorn. With lots of butter.

Before it was over, though, she turned her thoughts back towards the only member of the audience whose opinion actually mattered.

 _"Did you enjoy the show, Emma? Do you see now what we are capable of?"_

In her mind, she heard Emma's voice screaming at her, calling her a monster.

 _"I am the monster you made me. I am the darkness in men's souls. I am your darkness, Emma."_

 _"Stop this!"_ Emma pleaded _. "I've seen enough. You are evil and vile and powerful. Is that what you want me to admit?"_

 _"Oh, but I'm not done yet, and you're still missing the point I've been trying to make."_

She rose up from her seat, standing proudly in all her dark glory in front of the nervous crowd of men. She could see the fear that they might be next in line for demonstration, but they were too afraid to fight her with their leader laying splayed open in front of them. "Have you ever felt alone?" She asked them, returning her voice to something resembling soothing, motherly tones. "Do you know how cruel a place the world can be? I can see in your eyes that you do. I know it as well. I have been abandoned and forgotten. I have been made to feel unworthy. But I am here to change all of that. You see, I have a plan to ensure that we never feel unloved again. And it starts with you."

None of the crowd said a word, only watching her like frightened sheep.

 _"What sort of plan involves you infecting men with dark magic?_ " Emma spat back.

Smiling to herself at Emma's unflinching bravery, she addressed the men again. "My plan is simple. Swear your devotion to me, swear to love none other but me, and I will lead you to untold power and glory. I will make all of your dreams come true." Some of them responded immediately with an affirmative gesture, while others were more wary.

Before she could speak again, though, Emma's feisty spirit called her out. _"You are so full of crap,"_ Emma countered. _"That's the lamest villain speech of all time. Besides, I know something else is going on. If all you have to do is touch them, why do you need them to swear to you?"_

The Dark One hissed, but reigned in her irritation. _"I'm going to let the insult go, since I know that's just your way of dealing with things. However, since you asked, I will tell you why I need them to pledge themselves. The spell I put on them is powerful, but because I don't have full access to your magic, it's only temporary. However, if they submit themselves, offer up their hearts willingly, then the magic works on a more permanent basis."_

The Dark One snapped her fingers and the dark-haired, blue-eyed brother rose from the ground where he was still carving into Brax's flesh and came immediately to her side. "You are a pretty one," she sighed. "But not pretty enough." With another snap of her fingers, the man fell to the ground, as the magic coursing through him stopped his heart.

 _"Why did you do that?"_ Emma screamed.

The Dark One shrugged and with another wave of her hand both brothers, and the mess they had left behind, vanished from her throne room. _"He would have never willingly joined me. Not when he woke up and remembered what he did to his brother. And he had no voice. I need him to say it out loud for the spell to work. I killed him because I had no use for him."_

 _"You're lying!"_ Emma declared suddenly, _"I don't know why, but you are. That wasn't the real reason you killed him."_ A weighted silence hung between them, and the Dark One knew that it was dawning on Emma that the reason the man was killed was because of who he _wasn't_. She could feel Emma's reluctance to think about what that might mean.

Emma switched gears. " _So is_ _that your plan, then? Force everyone to swear their allegiance or you kill them? What makes you think anyone's going to fall for that? Why would people just give up their free will willingly?"_

 _"Come on, Emma, people aren't really that hard to figure out. Most of them want what you want—a home, a family, a sense of belonging. I can offer them that and so much more. I can bring them peace. Every heart in sync with each other._ "

 _"And all of them serving you?"_ Emma quipped.

The Dark One smiled inwardly. _"Well, someone has to be the object of their affection. I plan to take over each and every realm, one heart at a time, if necessary, until everyone is loyal only to me."_

 _"It will never work. People will fight you."_

 _"And they will die,"_ the Dark One replied with a small shrug, not caring how strange she might look having a silent conversation with herself. " _Trust me, people are much weaker than you think."_

Emma remained silent, and the Dark One could tell that she was slowly beginning to see the truth.

 _"Come on, Emma, it's not that bad. Sure, they no longer have free will, but what good was that doing them anyway? This way, they are happy. Isn't that what you want? To give everyone their happy endings?"_

 _"Not this way!"_ Emma growled, feeling the fight slipping away from her, but not ready to give in yet. " _Not by taking away their ability to feel and to choose! How could this be what I wanted?"_

 _"I don't know. I am you after all, so maybe you should tell me."_

 _"I will stop you. You won't get away with this."_ Emma stated passionately, summoning a last burst of hope.

The Dark One laughed suddenly, causing the men to jump. She continued to ignore them. They could wait. _"You still haven't realized it yet. All I need is their word, some simple little pledge of devotion like say…'I love you'. And I will own them, completely and forever."_

The Dark One could feel the moment Emma realized exactly what she was implying. It was like a shudder of fear going through her mind. " _No…no you wouldn't…"_

 _"Oh, I would. As soon as I'm done here, how about we go take a visit to the fam? Hmm? I bet they are missing you terribly. I can just picture the reunion now, Henry, the 'rents, running into our arms, their declarations of love.…"_

 _"NO! You back the hell off!"_

With a twittering laugh, the Dark One gloated in her victory. _"Why should I? It's about time I had a family to call my own. A family and a lover. I mean, this body has needs, Emma. It's strange, being you. This body just craves so much! How have you not gone mad with it?"_ As if to demonstrate her point, she ran her hands all over the more intimate parts of her body, much to the delight of the audience of men.

With her eyes closed, the Dark One bit her lip in both delight and confusion as a vivid memory of Emma's sprang up out of nowhere. ( _Hot, wet kisses, the brush of scruff scratching across her neck and shoulders, his hand gently cupping her breasts, her body tense with anticipation_.) Desire of a more carnal nature was a new sensation for the Dark One. Never before had she felt these sensations and she allowed herself a minute to revel in the rush of adrenaline caused by Emma's memories of Hook.

" _I must say, I do admire your taste in men, Emma. The captain was always a worthy foe. It would be so easy to sway him to our side. I doubt there would need for any of those theatrics, as he already seems to be a slave to you. I bet he would happily take care of our needs."_ She pulled up a different set of memories of him, ( _a dark jungle, an all-consuming kiss_ ) and a small moan escaped her lips. _"And I am going to need a ruthless captain to lead my new army,"_ she continued breathlessly, her hands still working themselves over her body. _"Who better than a former villain? Someone who knows the darkness well. Mmm,"_ she moaned again _. "Just think of the potential."_ Her body was quaking as the memories and sensations sent it racing towards a plateau of some sort. She could feel Emma seething with rage, and that, coupled with several explicit fantasies in Emma's subconscious, pushed the Dark One closer towards the peak. New, exhilarating sensations threatened to overwhelm her as her whole body crashed over the edge. With a loud shout, her magic exploding out from her and shattering all of the stained glass windows in the room. This was a feeling she could get used to.

Recovering quickly, she smile triumphantly at this newly discovered potential as Emma continued to curse her name. The men, having grown bolder with her bawdy actions, approached the throne with lust-filled eyes. She took a break from her conversation with Emma to finally address them, needing to finish what she came here for.

"Do you see what it is that I am offering you? Will you swear your devotion to me?" She demanded, her voice echoing off the stone walls of her ornate throne room as she stood like a goddess above them. Her eyes lit from within with a hungry fire.

They stared, as if hypnotized by her power. "Say it!" Her voiced boomed and echoed from the walls.

One by one, all the remaining men swore their allegiance to her. Flinging out her hands, she felt the surge of power welling up within her as she released a wave of dark magic. Ribbons of black smoke swirled about each one of the men, wrapping around their bodies before disappearing into the skin above their hearts. She closed her eyes and gloated at how easy it had all been. There was only one thing left standing in her way-Emma.

"You are powerless, Emma. You will never win against me." Now that everyone in the room was under her control, the Dark One had no need to remain in the throne room. She spun on her heels and immediately found herself back in her bedroom, looking once more at the ornately carved mirror. She saw the real Emma in the reflection and smiled. "But I know how much it means to you to protect the ones you love. So I will offer you a deal."

 _"What?"_ Emma asked skeptically.

"Give your heart completely over to the darkness," she answered.

Emma twitched nervously, her green eyes rimmed with red unshed tears. _"No! How is that a deal?"_

"If you join with me, I promise you that I will not touch your family. They will remain free from my influence, should you still wish it, that is."

 _"You're lying! Once I give you what you want, what's to stop you from taking over and just consuming everything? You've already said you want everyone to submit to you."_

"Look, Emma. The truth is this, if you join me, you would _become_ me. You could control your body again. Control my actions." As she watched Emma in the mirror, she waved her hand and changed her clothes from the feather dress to something more comfortable. She looked down to find her body clothed in a red silk gown that hugged her curves tightly. Perfect for seduction.

Meanwhile, Emma was still fretting, trying to work out all the angles of the Dark One's advice. _"But that doesn't make any sense. If my heart is completely dark, I won't be able to love them. I won't be able feel anything! What good would it do if I just end up hurting them anyway?"_

The Dark One frowned, angry about having her daydreams interrupted. "Hmm. Maybe. Maybe not," she said with a smirk. Reaching up, she removed the crown and let Emma's golden curls fall down around her shoulders. "Quite the conundrum, isn't it. But then again, you believe in all this love stuff now, right? After all, you're the one who said love is strength. Who says you won't be able to feel anything? Maybe you will be strong enough to control me after all."

Emma's eyes narrowed. _"Why are you telling me this? What do you have to gain?"_

The Dark One stepped back, perching on the corner of her bed. "I'm going to tell you the truth, Emma, seeing as I know all your dirty little secrets. And before you ask, I'm doing this because, believe it or not, I want there to be mutual trust between us." She waited until the Emma in the mirror stopped pacing and grew still. "The truth is, when I get your heart, I get all your magic as well. It would make the Dark One the most powerful being in the entire universe. Us, you and me, we could do anything and everything we want to and nothing could stop us."

 _"But you said there's a chance I could control you, I could fight off the darkness even if I give in. Why did you tell me your weakness?"_

She shrugged. "I don't see it as a weakness. I just don't think you have it in you to resist what I am offering you. So, if it tempts you into saying yes, what have I got to lose?"

 _"You said you know me. You know I can beat you. And if I don't, my family will. They'll find a way to destroy you. Love is more powerful than the darkness. I know it is."_ Emma affirmed, beating against the glass soundlessly.

Giving her an almost pitying look, the Dark One merely shook her head. "Who are you trying to convince?" She waved a hand and the image of Emma shimmered and was gone. She could feel Emma return to scratching at the walls inside her mind, still trying to free herself from the cage of her own making.

 _"Feel free to prove me wrong, Emma. Every time you lose hope, it only darkens your heart further. One way or another, you will be mine. Until then, I've got work to do. The kingdom isn't just going to corrupt itself, you know. A few more demonstrations, a few more speeches, that's all it will take. The people of this kingdom are weak. After all, they believe all the heroes have left them. That's why I came to the Enchanted Forest first. The people are just ripe for a new Savior."_

With that, the Dark One turned and vanished into the air.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- So apparently I am incapable of writing under 5000 words in a chapter. I actually had to cut it earlier than I had intended, too, so originally it was going to be quite a bit longer. Oh well, guess you will just have to wait to next time to find out what happens next.**

 **Lots of conflicting emotions in this chapter, stay with me, it will all be explained soon enough.**

 **Thank you to all who have taken time to read and review or f/f this story. These DO stories are so angsty, they can be hard to read. This one is no exception. I do promise a happy ending, but it will be hard fought and hard won.**

 **Also I threw in a few surprises in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

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 _"I must do something or I shall wear my heart away..."_  
― Charles Dickens

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 **Chapter 6: Stages of Change—Preparation**

"Henry, what did you say?" Belle asked hastily, her small glasses slipping down her nose as she looked down at the papers spread out on the glass display case.

For the first time, Killian really allowed himself to take a good look at the librarian. What he saw was a woman run ragged. There were dark circles under her eyes that hadn't been there since the time following Rumple's banishment. Her skin usually luster was dulled and there seemed to be an air of heaviness weighing her down.

"Avalon," Henry supplied, leaning over the glass counter to peruse the papers with her. The fact that he was already at a height tall enough to do so with ease suddenly struck Killian with a profound sense of melancholy. _Swan should be here. She should see her son growing and changing and becoming a man. She should never have had to miss any of this._

Belle bit her lip and closed her eyes, as if trying to recall something she had forgotten. "It does sound really familiar. You said you think it has something to do with Merlin?"

"Yeah. I don't know what exactly. Can you check that book we found the other day? The one with the white circle and the sword on the cover?" Henry asked, his face scrunched in concentration as Belle quickly exited the front room.

When they had arrived, Killian had stood back, watching Henry and Belle interact. It was odd to him that they had grown so comfortable with his presence that he was hardly even noticed. Not long ago, they would have been casting suspicious glances in his direction. Being somewhat invisible wasn't a horrible feeling, but it wasn't all that great, either. What was he even doing here? They didn't need him to look through more books. Both Henry and Belle were more than capable on their own. Killian fought back the desire to reach for his flask and drown away those feeling of uselessness. _Gods, did he miss Emma._ Swan was the only one who always seemed to notice his presence in the room, even when he was just off to the side and observing. How many times she would dart her eyes to him, as if gauging his reaction to any given situation? And he did the same for her, trying to support and encourage silently with just a nod or a smile. They had always had that unspoken connection. Would it still be there now? Would it be there after they got her back from the darkness?

Unconsciously, Killian rubbed at his chest with his hook. It was something he had been doing a lot of lately. Ever since Emma's disappearance, there was this dull sort of ache just below his sternum that never seemed to go away. It wasn't quite the hollow feeling of not having a heart, but the ache felt sort of familiar at the same time. He looked down at his hook and it suddenly occurred to him what it was. It was the same pain he felt when he had first lost his hand. That dull, tingling of the nerves and the shock where he would look down, expecting his hand to be there, only to find it gone. _Phantom limb,_ Emma had told him once. He had thought then that the title was rather fitting. It still was, only this time it wasn't a visible wound. It was a wound to his soul. Emma's absence from his life was akin to the absence of his missing hand. She had become a part of him so profoundly, that his heart was experiencing the phantom pain of a piece of it being gone.

"I couldn't find it back there, Henry," Belle announced suddenly from the doorway, knocking Killian out of his musing. "Maybe it's at the library. I'll call Will and have him check."

Needing a distraction, Killian followed Belle through the curtain to the back room where the phone was. He listened in as she told Will about the book Henry needed, and as soon as she ended her conversation with him, he approached her. "So, lass, I didn't realize you and the thief were still together."

Belle flushed and shook her head. "We're not, but that doesn't mean we can't be friends. He's been taking care of the library while I've been busy."

"With the crocodile?" He asked with a slight growl.

" _Killian_ ," she warned. "He's not that man anymore. And yes, Rumple's been very ill and required a lot of attention. So I've been a bit busy. Not to mention all this searching for the Sorcerer. I'm very grateful to Will for all he's done, but it wasn't fair to him to lead him on. I felt I need to end things-"

"-When you realized you still were in love with Rumpelstiltskin," Killian concluded, trying to read the mix of emotions on her face.

She looked at him with determination in her wide blue-green eyes. There was sadness there, but hope as well. Killian envied her in that moment. "Yes. I do still love him. Some days, I don't even understand it myself. But I do." She smiled tentatively up at him. "Whatever else happens between us, he needs me there to remind him who he is."

He sighed, nervously playing with his hook, trying to find the nerve to ask what he had been dying to know for a while now. Her soft aquamarine eyes and always open smile helped give him the courage. "What is he like now?" Killian asked quietly.

Belle looked at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out what he was really asking. "You mean, how has the no longer being attached to that darkness affected him? Honestly, I'm not sure. There are moments when he is the same as he ever was—cold, calculating, selfish. Then, there are moments where I see the man I always saw. The truly good man that I know is in him. And maybe it's still too early to tell, but I think I see more of those moments than the other. He lived in the darkness for a very long time. You know how hard it can be to come back from that."

"Aye," Killian agreed softly, not looking her in the eye. "That's what I'm most afraid of."

It wasn't hard for Belle to understand his meaning. "The Emma you love will come back to you. You won't let her live with the darkness for long enough to affect her. Even if it does, Killian, you can bring her back from it. Just as she did for you. You just have to remind her of who she really is."

Thinking about Emma at all was painful for him, thinking about how she might be different after she did come back was even more so. His heart ached with the promise of that 'I love you,' but he knew that what she was going through now might forever change what was between them. Still, if Belle could see the man she loves inside the monster, even after all that he's done, could he do no less for Emma?

"Thank you, lass. Perhaps I'd better go check on Emma's lad," he announced, scrambling to head back to the front of the shop before he further betrayed his emotions. Invariably, he always seemed unable to hide from the librarian's tender words and kind-hearted ways.

Belle was always a bit too keen of an observer of him. Normally, it was one of the things he liked best about her. Just not today, today he was far too vulnerable and far too raw. "Killian?" She said, startling him just as he reached the curtain separating the two rooms. "Don't lose hope. More people need you than you realize."

He merely nodded without looking back, quickly ducking back through the doorway. By the time he reached the glass display case where Henry was perched, he had regained some sort of control over his emotions.

Henry looked up at his return, but didn't smile like at him like he normally would. Suddenly, all his worries about Emma were pushed aside as his internal alarm bells started sounding, the same ones that had been ringing for the last week or so when he was around Henry. There was definitely something troubling the lad quite deeply, and Killian could take a guess or two as to what it was. Perhaps, though, it was time to take a more direct approach.

He tried to imagine what it must be like to know your mother is the Dark One. If he wanted examples, he only had to recall what Bae was like when he was a boy. Killian remembered well how the boy talked about how his father had abandoned him, how hurt he had been from it. The sting of that action had never fully left him, even after hundreds of years. What a cruel twist of fate it was then that Henry would also have that in common with his father. At least Henry had the knowledge that his mother didn't leave him for selfish reasons. And Henry didn't have to deal with all of this alone. He was so loved by so many, Killian included, and they would help him in every way they could.

Still, he could see that there was something else bothering the boy. Something far deeper than just missing his mother and being worried about her safety. There was a look in his eyes that Killian swore he had seen several times in his own. But was it really his place to intrude? He wasn't Henry's father and he wasn't family, as much as he would someday like to be. He was just a friend. Would the boy listen to what he had to say? Or would he feel that Killian have overstepped his bounds?

Before he could make a decision, the little bell on the shop door chimed and Will Scarlet strolled through, looking slightly flushed, like he had run all the way there from the library. Killian grinned to himself. Belle might not realize it, but the thief clearly still had feelings for her.

"Wahey, there!" Will called out, holding up a large, leather-bound book. "Somebody rang for a knight in shining armor?"

Belle giggled and crossed over to greet him. "I don't know about that, but I did need a delivery man." She flashed him a warm smile and he beamed at her from ear-to-ear.

Killian shook his head, realizing just how doomed the poor smitten bastard was, and decided he was better off staying out of it. Affairs of the heart were a touchy subject with him at the moment. Belle returned with the book and placed it in front of Henry. "Is this the book you were talking about?"

Henry nodded enthusiastically, graciously thanking Will for retrieving the book for him. The thief nodded and shuffled nervously, glancing at Belle from the corner of his eye. Killian scoffed inwardly at just how pathetic he looked dancing about the petite lass. _Swan would have made some sort of little joke about my pants being too tight had I acted like that in front of her_ , Killian thought with a smile which quickly morphed back into more of that phantom pain in his chest.

"Best I get back to the library, yeah? Wouldn't want any of the fine upstanding citizens makin' off with yer books," Will said as his cheeks flushed with pink.

Belle grinned and offered to walk him out. Meanwhile, Killian slid onto a stool next to Henry so that he could see what he was reading. The boy was flipping through the pages at lightning speed, clearly looking for something specific.

All of a sudden, his eyes lit up. "I knew it!" Henry exclaimed, pointing down at the page in question.

Killian leaned over, trying to read the extremely tiny script, "Nice job, m'boy! Though I have no idea how you were able to read a page that looks as though it was written for pixies. Mind giving me the particulars?"

They were joined by Belle a moment later. She too was impressed by Henry's ability to read the page. Only she was a bit more skeptical. "You were right, there is something about Avalon in here. How on earth did you remember that? We must have looked through hundreds of books!"

Henry shrugged, his cheeks flushing with pride and a bit of embarrassment. "I think it's an Author thing. It's like I have perfect recall of anything I've read now."

Killian and Belle looked at him in wonder for a moment before coming back to their senses. "Well," Belle replied with a bit of nervous laughter, "that's pretty amazing. I'd love to be able to remember all the stories I've ever read."

"Yeah," Henry agreed stoically and then went back to looking at the page. Once more, Killian felt that shift in the boy's tone that signaled something was bothering him, but he filed it away for later. Right now, locating Merlin took precedent.

"Look at this!" Henry exclaimed, looking up at Belle, and then at Killian, the excitement in the boy's face telling him that some important clue had just been found and that whatever mood had fallen over the boy had retreated for the moment. He swiveled the book around so that they could see what he was referring to, but Killian practically had to put his nose to the page to make out the writing.

Henry took pity on him and spun the page back, reading off the important points. "It says here, that Avalon is a mythical island. According to legend, Avalon was supposed to be the final resting place of King Arthur. However, some people believe that the island is also the source of all magic. Sometimes it's called the 'Fortunate Isle' because it is literally like a paradise. There's no disease or death, food grows in abundance, and all your dreams come true."

"What a bunch of hogswash!" Killian shouted with a sudden vehemence. "I've heard many stories of the like in my time, lad. They are nothing but lies meant to ensnare the weak-minded. Mark my words, this island will be anything but a paradise." He couldn't help the sudden anger from lashing out. How many times had his men told him such tales, and how many times had he seen them go off in search of those supposed 'paradise islands' only to hear of that their pursuit had been fruitless or worse, fatal? If this Avalon was such a place, then all of this might only be some sort of trap. One more bloody dead-end. And meanwhile, Emma suffered for their foolishness.

"Um, alright," Henry agreed warily, the excitement of the moment now gone. Killian felt suddenly ashamed for destroying the only bit of hope they had had so far and as he watched Henry skimming his fingers mindlessly over the page, he knew he had to make things right.

"Then again, I've been wrong about such things before. Perhaps you should keep reading, lad," Killian prompted sincerely, hoping to convey his apology in the gentleness of his voice.

Henry looked up at him, his deep brown eyes were sharp and biting ( _So like his father's,_ Killian thought). With that look, Killian knew for certain that Henry was mad at him about something, but he hadn't yet been able to work out what it was. Making a promise to himself, he vowed that as soon as he could, he would have a talk with the boy. Unfortunately, just like all those times when Emma was upset, there never seemed to be an opportune moment. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, the long front locks falling out of place and spilling over his brow.

"Yeah, okay, as long as there aren't any more _interruptions_ ," Henry continued with more than a trace of bitterness. He resumed his tale, but not quite with his previous fervor, and Killian felt his stomach roll with shame. "Um, here it says that there are many theories about Avalon. One is that it is the home of three great witches of legend-The Lady of the Lake, Morgan Le Fay, and Nimueh."

"I've heard of them, but I'm not sure their tales are relevant. What of Merlin? Any connection with him and this island?" Belle asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two men.

Henry nodded, and flipped the page over, his finger pointing to a small hand-drawn copy of an ancient manuscript. Bright golds, reds, and blues lept off the paper. A pattern of intricately woven lines and vague floral shapes filled the entire page, surrounding a text of some sort. The words themselves were ornate in design, woven into the complex design of Celtic knots and scrollwork that decorated the border. "Only one," Henry said in what came out as a hushed whisper.

As he spoke, there seemed to be a shift in the air that wasn't there a minute ago. Like the electric hum of lightning just before it strikes, the air around them had become charged with anticipation. All animosity forgotten, Henry looked up at Killian in awe. Killian nodded back. He felt it, too, and a quick glance at Belle told him she was not unaffected, either. Whatever this was that they had stumbled upon was steeped in its own sort of magic.

With a strong, clear voice Henry began to tell his tale. "According to this page, there was an ancient prophecy written down before the middle ages about Avalon. That's what this is," he motioned to the picture. "It's an exact replica of an illuminated manuscript that was found in an old monastery in Britain. Apparently, the original was destroyed long ago."

"Well, go on…" Killian prompted.

"Okay. Um, it says, 'Awake, oh Dreamer, for the Fortunate Isle hast called thou to her shores! Come hither to the isle of cloud and shadow. Come hither to her timeless mountain, to her seas where the lost souls sail among the dreams. Come hither, for the great magic slumbers and must arise. For only when the purest of hearts overcomes the darkest of evils will he be free once more.' Then there's a bit at the end that looks like it's in a different language," Henry added, doing his best to sound out the odd words. " _Yn codi,_ Sorcerer! _Mae eich amser_ _wrth law!"_

"What the devil does that mean?" Killian blurted out before he could stop himself.

Henry shrugged, but the spark was back in his eyes and Killian couldn't help but feel the excitement wash over him as well. "I don't know. But look, it says 'Sorcerer,' see? There must be a connection here."

"Those words aren't elvish. They aren't dwarfish or troll, either. Maybe fae, but the connected consonants are a bit unusual," Belle commented quietly, almost as if she was talking to herself. Her eyes had taken on the glassy look she sometimes got while deep in thought as she tapped her pencil repeatedly on the counter. "Wait a moment. I might have an idea," Belle chimed in suddenly, rushing from the room in a haste. She returned moments later with a small, old laptop that Rumple had kept stashed in the back.

Killian arched his brow and shook his head in disgust. "Don't tell me we're going to try that magic box again, lass."

Belle glared and rolled her eyes. "Killian, I told you before that the Internet is really helpful for research." Her fingers flew over the keyboard and he tried not to smile at the way Henry was looking over Belle's shoulder like an eager pup.

"I totally agree," Henry smirked as Belle's own smile grew on her face. "Did you find anything?"

"I put that last part into a search..." She said, studying the screen closely.

Henry snickered and asked, "Did you just use Google to translate a thousand year old prophecy?"

"Yes, I did!" Belle said proudly, now beaming ear-to-ear. "And guess what? It says that ' _Yn codi,_ Sorcerer! _Mae eich amser_ _wrth law!'_ is Welsh in origin and it means "Arise, Sorcerer! Your time is at hand!"

"Welsh? As in Wales? That fits in with some of the older Arthurian legends, they supposedly take place in Wales and Great Britain." Henry swatted at Killian's left arm and shot him a smug grin. "See, Killian, I told you. Merlin's on Avalon. I knew it!"

Killian couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and pride as he looked down at Swan's boy. "Aye, you did. Now, we just need to find out a way to get there. Any clues from that damnable magic box on how to accomplish such a feat?" He gloated a bit too merrily.

There was a silence for a bit as all three of them mulled over the words of the manuscript and what Henry had told them about his dream.

"You know, this might sound odd but, Henry, I think that prophesy is about you." Belle said with trepidation.

Frowning, Henry bent over the page again. "How can that be? This was written like a thousand years ago."

Belle paused, taking a breath while she fidgeted with the pencil that had been secured in the curls behind her ear. "Well, when I want to understand something complex, like a prophesy, I find it's helpful to break it down into parts. This was written to someone called the 'dreamer,' right? And it is telling them that they need to go to Avalon to awaken the great magic because the purest of hearts must overcome a great evil. I'm not positive, but with what you told me about the dream you had, I would bet money that you are the dreamer. And the part about the darkness has to be about Emma." She took a deep breath meeting his eyes, and placing a hand upon his shoulder. "Henry you said you had that dream for a reason. I think you're right about Merlin. But if what I believe to be Avalon's location is right, I don't think a regular portal is going to get you there. Look," she said, pointing to the words on the page, "this says the island is in the land where lost souls sail a sea of dreams. There's only one place I know of that is called that—the Netherworld."

"The Netherworld?" Henry asked, his brow furrowing as if caught in a vague memory, "You mean, that place I went to with the burning room?"

She offered him a slight shrug. "I don't know, maybe. Supposedly the Netherworld is a place that you can only get to when you are caught between life and death. Sort of like a way station between this world and the next."

He looked up at her. "So what does that mean? We have to go under a sleeping curse to find Merlin?"

Belle shook her head in response. "No. The sleeping curse takes your soul to the burning room. We need to go somewhere else."

"Well, do we know of anyone who has ever come back from the dead?" Henry asked suddenly.

Killian cleared his throat, his face drawn into a deep scowl. "Aye, I might know of one person."

"Really? Who?" Belle and Henry said at the same time.

Suddenly, the scowl on Killian's face gave way to softer look. "When I first met your mother, she was traveling with a princess named Aurora and a warrior named Mulan."

"Yeah, Aurora is Sleeping Beauty. I met her in that burning place," Henry interjected.

Killian scratched at his stubble with his ringed thumb. "Indeed? I was not aware you could communicate within that realm."

"Yep," Henry explained, "I had to have a special necklace, but I managed to get messages across to Grandma and Aurora while they were in the Enchanted Forest. It was pretty scary," he added in a quieter voice.

"It takes a lot of bravery to willingly traverse a place one fears, Henry m'boy," Killian replied, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, but rethinking the gesture when Henry frowned deeply. He hid his awkwardness quickly, by lifting his hand up and scratching behind his ears instead. "As I was saying, I met her after she had lost her beloved to a wraith."

Henry leaped down from the stool and paced around the counter. "That's right! Philip! His soul was consumed by a wraith." Henry blinked several times in confusion as what he just said failed to make any sense. "Wait. How is he still alive?"

"A very good question. For it was always my understanding that a wraith takes a person's soul to the Netherworld, never to return," Killian said pointedly. Once more, that heaviness had returned to the air and this time all three of them knew it meant they were on the right track.

With a crash, Belle slammed the book closed and flashed both of them a bright smile. "Well, then. I think we need to go and pay Aurora and Philip a visit. Do you think they'll like some tea?"

…..

"Snow. No. Absolutely not."

Mary Margaret sighed and shifted Neal to her other arm. David tightened his grip on her shoulder but let her take the lead. She was glad for his presence, but she couldn't help feel a bit guilty. This was all her idea after all. They had talked long into the night, arguing the merits of this choice until they had agreed on one thing. No matter how risky, they had to show Emma they were willing to go after her. That, coupled with their duty as the displaced rulers of the Enchanted Forest left them certain this was the right choice.

"Regina," Mary Margaret argued, "you heard what Ursula said. We have to go back there. We can't just let our people suffer."

Regina crossed her arms and raised her chin. "And you heard what Rumple said. The Dark One will use you to hurt Emma! Is that what you want?"

"Of course not," Mary Margaret cried, she stepped closer to the raven-haired lady, ignoring for a moment the way the baby in her arms kept trying to reach out for her. "That's why you're coming with us. We're going to go in disguise. And we need your magic to do it."

Regina's eyes darted to the chubby fingered baby trying to grab onto her lapel and though her heart softened, her resolve hardened. She glared at the couple standing opposite her in her living room and knew she couldn't let them go through with their ridiculous plan. "Snow that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. And I once listened to a Grumpy sing a concerto."

"What?" David added distractedly.

She shot him an exasperated head shake and said, "Can we please get back to your wife's insane plan that most assuredly will not be happening."

He drew himself up, staring at her with his hands on his hips, while Mary Margaret continued to plead her case. "Regina, it's not crazy. Aren't you sick of just sitting here waiting? My daughter is out there, she needs help. Our people are being turned into slaves. And you both just want me to sit here and wait until the Dark One has destroyed the Enchanted Forest and comes marching down Main Street with an army of mindless zombies?"

The mayor sank into a chair, conceding this round to the other woman. "Snow, no one is saying that. I know you miss Emma. What she did for me…" She blanched at the memory of the darkness seeping into her; the coldness, the emptiness of it. And then, it was gone, and for a beautiful moment, she felt utter relief and happiness. Until she had seen the way the coils of dark magic were now snaking down Emma's arm. The one that was now holding aloft the dagger. And fear like she had never known had taken its place.

Regina shuddered, forcing away that memory, just like she had every day since it had happened so that the paralyzing sense of guilt wouldn't destroy her from the inside out. "I can't even begin to tell you how I feel. I want to help her. I want to make this right. But what you are talking about is too risky. And you have another child to think about as well," she said pointedly, her heart unintentionally warming up as the little prince gave her a gummy smile.

Mary Margaret looked between Regina and her son as she hugged him closer, nuzzling her nose into his soft blond hair. "I love both of my children, and I would do anything— _anything-_ for them," she declared, feeling the tears pushing at the back of her eyes. They had already fallen enough for several lifetimes, and she just didn't think she had it in her to let Regina see her cry as well. "Don't you see, that is why we have to go? If we don't at least try, what kind of parents are we? I know the risks, to her and to Neal. But Charming and I, we're fighters. We fight for what is right. And this _is_ right."

With an eye roll that Mary Margaret suspected had more to do with hiding her emotions than any real annoyance, Regina sighed. "Fine. But if we do this, we do it smart. Which means, we do it my way. Understand?"

Mary Margaret nodded and without warning launched herself at the woman, pinning little Neal between them. "Yes, absolutely. Thank you, Regina."

Neal gurgled his gratitude as well, and Regina let out a choked laugh. After Mary Margaret had pulled back, Regina looked at the couple with a new compassion in her eye and added, "I'm not doing this for you, Snow. I'm doing this for Emma. She fought to give me my happy ending when she didn't have to. Now it's my turn."

…

The look on the auburn haired princess was nothing short of utter shock. "Belle! Henry!" Aurora said, scanning the faces of her visitors and finally landing on that of a smirking pirate. "Um, Hook. Hello. What are you all doing here?"

Taking the lead, Killian grabbed the decanter straight out of Belle's hand and thrust it gingerly in front of Aurora's face. He smiled widely at her. "Actually, love, we've just popped 'round to see if you'd like some tea and cookies, courtesy of the lovely Miss Belle."

Belle elbowed him hard in the ribs and hissed, "Killian, knock it off." She turned around and gave the lady an apologetic look. "Aurora, we need your help with something. It's for Emma."

Suddenly, the redhead's whole demeanor changed. She went from confused to concerned in an instant. Stepping back from the door, she indicated that the three of them should follow her inside. "Emma? What can I do to help? I don't know anything about the Dark One."

Belle lead the group down a small hallway plastered with pictures of the princess, her prince and their young boy. As she walked, she explained, "No, but you do know something about the Netherworld. Actually, is your husband here? He might be able to help us, too."

She waved them towards a toy-strewn couch and looked nervously towards the top of the stairway. "He's watching Philip, Jr., but I can get him. Have a seat. I'll only be a minute," she said, as she hurriedly retreated back up the staircase.

Killian swatted away some sort of bug-eyed doll with disgust and nestled down into the plaid sofa. Henry choose a chair nearby and began absently thumbing through a child's book about trains. Belle was left to sit next to Killian and she demurely smoothed out her skirts while kicking some of the toys underneath the sofa and out of her way.

Killian was just about to make some sort of comment about the situation when a pleasant male voice sounded from behind him. "Hello. Aurora tells me you need some help with your search for Emma. What do you need?" Philip said. He removed a white towel from over his shoulder, tossing it onto the coffee table and took a seat opposite them. A moment later, he was joined by Aurora holding a very fussy little boy.

Belle immediately launched into the reason for their visit. "As you are aware, we've been looking for Merlin in order to find a way to rid Emma from the Dark One. Well, we have reason to believe that Merlin is in a place that only exists in the Netherworld. We know you've been there, so anything you can tell us about that place would be helpful."

"Oh," Philip said, appearing genuinely startled. He stared at them for a moment, trying to put together what to say.

Aurora gave him an affection squeeze on the arm and took over for her husband. "It wasn't easy. Mulan and I searched for a way to the Netherworld for a long time. But we found the answer eventually."

"How did you do it?" Henry asked.

She bit her lip, rocking the young boy back and forth on her hip. "Well, we learned from a seer that we would need a magical item from each of the four elements: earth, air, water, and fire. Some of them were easy to find. The others were a bit harder."

"Like what?"

"Um, let's see. For water, we just needed a body of water touched by magic. For earth, we went back to Snow's castle and got more of the ash from the enchanted wardrobe. For air, we found out we would need the Piper's pipes, and so we had to bargain with a really nasty pirate-" She cut herself off with a gulp, looking at Killian, who merely raised a curious brow in her direction. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"No need apologies necessary, love. Not many pirates are as dashing and handsome as m'self. Please continue," Killian prompted with a wave of his hook and the slightest tease in his voice.

Henry glared at him, but Killian could see it contained the barest hint of a smile.

Flustered, Aurora stumbled around for words a bit before she remembered where she was at. "Oh. Um, and for fire, we needed the last light on the first day of the year."

"Well, magic water, that shouldn't be hard. And if it's enchanted wood we'll need, I s'pose the Jolly would do. What about those pipes, though? Do you still have them?" Killian asked.

"The pipes? Funnily enough, yes. Philip uses them sometimes when Junior won't sleep. I'll be happy to let you borrow them," Aurora offered, looking pointedly only at Henry. She tilted her head at her husband, and he nodded in silent agreement, slipping away to go locate the pipes.

"And that last part about the light? What does that mean?" Belle inquired.

The baby in her arms suddenly let out an enormous belch when Aurora shifted him over her shoulder to pat his back. Killian and Henry couldn't contain their grins at each other over the baby's sense of timing. Aurora noticed them making ridiculous face and she glared at Killian for a full minute before continuing on. "When we opened the portal, Mulan and I stood on the shore of Lake Nostros, we spilled some of our blood into the sand, because you also have to have a tether to this world, or else you can't get back. Then, we sprinkled the ash into the water, and Mulan played a melody on the pipes just as the sunlight faded from the sky on the first day of the year. And it worked, the portal to the Netherworld opened and we were able to go through and retrieve Philip."

While they were pondering just how to recreate such an act, Philip returned bearing a set of wooden reed pipes, held together with a colorful twine. Killian sat up at the sight of them. "Those are Pan's!" He exclaimed.

Philip turned them over in his hands as if expecting them to suddenly bite him. He thrust them out towards Killian, who took them with a surprised nod. He turned them over in his hand, marveling at the delicately carved wooden reeds which must have been the work of pixies. "I haven't seen these for centuries. Pan was quite upset when he lost these. And to think, you found them in the possession of a pirate." Killian chuckled darkly, and didn't miss the little grin Henry shot him from across the room. Anything that would have made Pan angry instantly made the two of them giddily happy.

Aurora blanched at his words. "Please, take them then. I want nothing to do with that sort of magic."

"Oh, I believe the pipes themselves were more or less harmless. I presume the magic was all in the way they were played," Killian replied, still rolling the wooden pipes between his hand and hook, lost in deep thought. All the mirth left his face, and he rose suddenly, gracefully tucking the pipes into his coat and bending into a low bow. "My lord, my lady, young sir," he said with a nod to each of them and a quick wink towards their babe, "I thank you most graciously for your assistance. And might I add, your highness, how truly sorry I am for my acts upon your person when last we met."

Philip narrowed his eyes in surprise and Aurora flinched backwards from shock. Clearly, no one had expected a pirate to apologize. "Uh. Well, I suppose you did give my heart back in the end, so let's just forget about the whole thing," Aurora mumbled.

Killian bowed deeply again, trying not to let them see the relief he felt at her forgiveness. As he stood and turned to go, he caught Belle looking at him with a soft, warm smile. He grumbled to himself, swiping his thumb across his lips and turned instead to Henry. "Come, then, lad. We're almost there," his commanded as his tone darkened suddenly. "All except for the one element. Perhaps your other mother might have some solution our problem."

"Wait, what problem?" Henry cried, standing up and running to him after saying a quick goodbye to Philip and Aurora. Belle was quick to join them as the trailed after Killian's hastily retreating form.

"Well, lad," he sighed, looking back over his shoulder as his blue eyes turned stormy grey in the sinking sun. "The problem is that last I checked, the first of the year isn't for another eight months."

And just as soon as it had begun, all their hope at a quick rescue for Emma was dashed to pieces.

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 **Reviews?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- So sorry this took forever to update. I will be alternating posts between this story and my other one (The Ghost and Killian Jones), but I promise to not abandon this. I really love this story and the feels I get from it. In this chapter, we get our first glimpse at the Netherworld and a bit of Regina/Hook snarking (my personal favorite). Enjoy!**

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 _"Action may not always bring happiness; but there is no happiness without action."_  
― Benjamin Disraeli

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 **Chapter 7- The stages of Change- Action**

"Mom! I have really, _really_ awesome news," Henry exclaimed in a rush, barreling into his mother's living room, only to find it already occupied with his grandparents. He grinned at them and at his mom as he threw his pea coat and scarf into a corner. All the way home, he had been going over and over everything they'd learned, and he was more positive than ever that they were headed in the right direction. It felt like he was unlocking clues in a video game, where when you were on the correct path, everything just slotted perfectly into place. Well, almost everything.

His mom flashed him a look that said _don't-think-I-didn't-notice-you-leaving-your-stuff-on-the-floor-young-man,_ but she only replied, "Us too, Henry."

Like a ghost, Killian entered through the door, quietly closing it behind him and coming up the stairs slowly, stopping when he saw the gathered crowd. Belle had decided to return to check on Rumple, but she agreed that she would meet up with them later if they needed her. Killian didn't seem as caught up in the hopeful spirit as Henry was. In fact, he still looked miserable, despite having made real progress on locating Merlin.

 _What was his problem now? Is he giving up again?_ Henry thought. He turned away, trying to dial back his anger, which always seemed to flare whenever he sensed Killian was in a bad mood. Deep down, he knew he was wrong to keep blaming his anger solely on Killian. It was just easier than dealing with the real source of his turmoil. He sighed and focused instead on his family. Getting the darkness was his sole concern right now, and his feelings about the pirate would just have to wait.

"We think we know where Merlin is," Henry said, too excited to contain the revelation any longer.

His grandmother gasped, "What, really?" Then she turned to his grandfather and they both smiled at each other for a second. At least _they_ hadn't lost hope.

Blocking out those negative thoughts that kept wanting to crop up, Henry quickly skipped to his family's side, smiling at his baby uncle, who gurgled back at him. For some reason this made him feel better and he nodded enthusiastically at his grandparents. "Yeah. And we might have a way to get there, too."

"Henry…that's amazing. Tell me everything," Mary Margaret demanded, her eyes aglow with expectation.

Henry was about to begin when he remembered what his mother had said. He turned back to her to see her looking shocked as well. "Wait, what about your news?" He asked.

Regina glanced quickly at Mary Margaret and David and seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement with them. "It can wait." Henry wondered what was going on that was so secretive between them. It must be something bad or dangerous, or they would have just told him.

"Okay… But can we maybe all talk over at Granny's, I think I might need to eat something," said Henry, his stomach growling to emphasize his point. He had been so caught up with everything that eating had been low on list of priorities. Now he was paying for his neglect.

Regina turned sharply on her heels towards Killian, who was lounging against a wall, his all black ensemble contrasting with the stark white of the walls, and snapped at him. "What have you been up to all morning where you couldn't have made sure to feed my son?"

….

"So you're saying you had a dream about Merlin and now you think he's in the Netherworld on an island called Avalon," Regina clarified, frowning at her son.

Shoving the last French fry in his mouth, Henry nodded. "I know it's a lot to believe, but I'm telling you, this is for real." He took a long pull at his soda and sat back into the cushioned seat of the booth.

Regina leaned over, placing her elbow on the table and tucking her hand under her chin while she regarded her son with obvious pride. "I know. I believe you, Henry. I've learned my lesson about that, _trust me._ The pirate on the other hand—"

Killian jerked to attention at the insult to his character, but Henry beat him to the punch. " _Mom,_ " he admonished.

Not able to keep his temper to himself, Killian threw in his two cents. He glared at the queen and if looks could kill, she would have been six-feet under by now. "If my word is not good enough for you, perhaps you would prefer the lady Belle's? Hm? She was there as well. Or maybe the Princess Aurora and her husband. Maybe you would believe them. After all, pirates are an untrustworthy lot," he spat, the self-loathing evident to everyone at Granny's. David rose slightly in his chair, ready to come to his aid, but Killian merely shot him a nasty glare as well.

Regina turned violently in her seat to confront Killian, who sat nearby at the diner counter. "What crawled onto your ship and died?"

Henry scowled at her and she slumped into the booth, the tension deflating from the air. "For your information, it's not that I think you're _lying_ ," she clarified, "But just because I think you are telling the truth doesn't mean I think you are right."

At least Henry could be counted on to diffuse any tension. He took one look at Killian still seething in his chair and gave him an apologetic look. That seemed to do the trick and Killian went back to being broody and staring at his flask.

"Mom, can we focus here?" Henry admonished. "We are _this close_ to having everything we need to go find Merlin. We've got all the pieces except one. Do you know of anything else we could use for the element of fire?"

David, who had been sitting with Mary Margaret and Neal and the table behind them, finally spoke up. "Wait, Henry, didn't you say that Aurora and Mulan used the last light on the first day?"

Henry looked at his grandfather in confusion. "Yeah? But the first of the year isn't for months. We can't let mom be the Dark One for that long!"

David shook his head and gave the boy a curious little smile. "No, we can't. I'm not saying that. But I don't think you'll have to wait."

"Why?" Henry asked.

David leaned over and ruffled up his grandson's hair. His smile grew. "Well, you know I grew up as a farmer, right? And any good farmer will tell you the first of the year for them begins not in January, but on the first day of spring. It's the day when planting begins, when new life starts to bloom."

It took a minute for anyone in the room to understand exactly what he was saying.

Suddenly, Henry jumped up from the booth, running over to Killian, who was looking completely lost, and started shouting, "Oh my gosh! I knew it! It's totally all linked, like fate!"

"Wait, Henry, slow down. What did you know?" Killian said, scratching behind his ear. His face clearly read: _What the bloody hell did planting bloody crops have to do with anything?_

Henry scoffed and went back to the table, making sure Killian knew he was being dense. "That dream had to be fate or magic or whatever, because tomorrow is the first day of spring!"

Just then, everything that had been implied by David came into clarity. Killian's whole body leapt to attention. "Are you saying that we can open the portal to the Netherworld tomorrow evening, lad?"

Giving him an eye roll that would have made Emma envious, Henry replied, "No, I'm saying we should go plant some corn. Of course that's what I'm telling you! Tomorrow I'll open the portal and go get Merlin so we can save my mom."

Quick as lightning, his mom put the brakes on Henry's exhuberance. "Hold on just a second there. You are not going alone, young man."

Now, Regina was on the receiving end of Henry's inherited attitude. "Mom, I drove to Boston to find Isaac when you guys went missing. I knocked out Blackbeard on my own. I rescued my mom from the tower, and I saved us all from being trapped in that book. I think I can handle it."

Beside them, Killian's fist clenched tightly around his flask. His voice sounded strained, when he replied, "Henry, lad, no one is saying you can't handle it. But you don't know what's out there. It could all be a trick."

Henry crossed his arms and glared. This was the same discussion they had had earlier in Gold's shop. _Really, what was his deal? Why did he keep being so negative about everything?_ And just like that, Henry's anger at Killian returned full force. "It was _my_ dream, I was the one called," he chided. "Remember the prophecy? I have to go."

If he sensed any hostility, Killian didn't mention it. Instead, his face softened and his voice became more sincere. "Aye, and you will. Because I'm going with you."

Unfortunately, Henry was too upset to care about Killian's offer. _Did he think he was a baby? Hadn't he proven he was capable of handling himself? Why did mom's stupid boyfriend keep having to interfere with everything?_ _It wasn't like he really cared anyway._

Leave it to his mom to be the one to call him out. "Whoa!" Regina stated. "You are not going off with my son alone to another realm! Not without me."

Mary Margaret cried out and shot up from the table. "Regina, what about our deal? We need your magic if we're going to the Enchanted Forest."

Henry volleyed between his mom and his grandparents. This was their big secret? "Wait, you guys are going after my mom? What about what Mr. Gold said? It could be dangerous for her and for you."

Mary Margaret crossed over to take the seat next to him and she hugged him tightly with her one free hand. "Henry, we know that. But we can't let your mom think we gave up on her. Even if we can't do anything to help her, she needs to know we were willing to put her first." She gave him a tense but genuine smile. "Don't worry, though. We have a plan. Regina's going to use that necklace of Zelena's to disguise us so that we can see what's going on without the Dark One finding out."

Color him impressed, Henry thought.

David joined their little group and glared down his nose at his mother. "Regina," he said in that very fatherly tone of his that brooked no argument. "I think Hook has proved himself to be trustworthy enough to keep Henry safe." Killian's brows shot up high enough to hit Granny's ceiling, while Henry merely huffed in annoyance. David didn't seem to notice either reaction. "And I think he's right. He and Henry should go after Merlin. Who knows? If they succeed, maybe they can bring Merlin to the Enchanted Forest and stop the darkness before it has a chance to spread anywhere else."

Regina took a moment to consider this plan, looking like she was at war with herself and simultaneously wanting to rip David's face off. "Fine," she admitted, turning to the slightly stunned pirate, and pointing her finger. "But I'm warning you, Hook. If Henry comes back with so much as a bruised knee, I will detach and roast all those manly parts you seem to be so fond of. Understand?"

Killian shook of his shock and narrowed his eyes. "Perfectly. And rest assured that nothing will happen to Henry on my watch. I'll defend the boy with my life," he said with stone-solid conviction. Henry could feel the air grow heavy all around him. _Did he really mean that?_

Sensing the Killian was a hairsbreadth away from losing his composure, David also glared at her and added, "He's telling the truth, Regina. That's exactly how he died in that alternate universe. Even though he didn't know him, he saved Henry's life."

The anger Henry had been feeling a moment before was suddenly gone. How had he forgotten what Killian had done for him in that other version? He didn't even know who he was and yet, he was willing to die to save him and his mom. Henry could feel the rise of guilt again and his cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

He barely heard his mother agreeing to let Henry travel with Killian. Why was he being so mean to the guy? He really didn't deserve it, and yet, he kept making him out to be the bad guy. Where was all this coming from? Surely, it wasn't just because Killian had spent the weeks following his mom's disappearance in a drunken stupor. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

Lost in thought, he didn't here Killian speaking until he was right up next to him. "What?"

Killian's face looked pinched and sad, as he repeated himself. "I said that I must go and make preparations for the journey, lad. I will meet you by the docks shortly before sunset tomorrow." He began to walk out, his shoulders slumped and his eyes distant.

He had almost made it to the door when Henry rushed forward. "Wait, Killian."

The pirate spun around quickly and scratched at his ear, his hook hovered on the handle of the door. "Eh, lad, what is it?"

He exhaled slowly, really trying to think about what he was going to say. "I want you know that I do appreciate what you're doing for me. But this is my quest. Agreed?"

With a wink, Killian replied, "Aye, Sir Henry. I suppose for this trip, _and this trip only,_ you can be the Captain."

Henry rocked back on his heels and grinned. "Awesome."

….

After Killian had left, Henry returned to the booth and finished up the last of his food. His mom looked worried, bu _t_ didn't say why. Instead, she ran her fingers through his long fringe and smiled. "Henry, why don't you spend the night with me tonight? We'll be leaving right after you do."

Easily agreeing, he suddenly wanted to know more about this mission to the Enchanted Forest. He left his mom's table and went to sit with his grandparents. He watched his grandma fuss over the baby for a bit, making funny faces to get him to laugh, when something dawned on him. "What about my uncle? Who's going to watch him while you're gone?"

"We've already made arrangements with Granny and Ruby," David answered.

At Regina's approach, Henry looked up. "And I'll need to speak to Robin," she said, more to his grandparents than him. "This town's going to need someone to take charge while all of us are gone and also keep an eye on my sister. She's been a pest, but so far, she's all just bark and no bite."

"I think that is a great idea," Henry agreed with a smile for her which seemed to brighten up her mood.

Mary Margaret sighed, looking around their little group. "I hate that we are all going to be separated like this. I wish there was a way we could all keep in touch."

Her words made him recall an old, cherished memory. "Yeah, like for Operation Cobra, mom and I had these walkie-talkies," Henry remembered.

"What we need is magic cell phones," David offered.

Mary Margaret shook her head, her eyes going wider as an idea seemed to dawn on her. "No, what we need are mirrors."

"Mirrors, Snow? How are they going to help?" Regina asked.

"Magic mirrors, Regina," Mary Margaret corrected. "Like in Neverland. Couldn't you enchant a mirror for each of us so that we could all stay in contact with each other?"

She pondered for a moment before nodding. "Yes, I think I can manage that." As an afterthought, she added, "And why don't I give one to Belle in case Rumple has any helpful tips about how to sneak around his castle without getting caught."

Mary Margaret blinked rapidly, clutching the baby tighter to her chest. "It's settled, then. Tomorrow at sunset we head out." She turned and gave her husband a tender look.

"I think this operation needs a name. What do you say, kid?" David asked, giving Henry a smile.

Suddenly, there was that same feeling he had before. His stomach turned over with it. "No. No more code names," Henry pleaded.

His mom's eyes were suddenly full of care. "Henry—"

They couldn't know what he had done. Not yet. Henry met her eye and explained, "No, the last operation didn't work out so well. Can we please not… I don't want a code name. Let's just get my mom back." He wished they would let it drop, but he knew they were all looking at him now with more than a little concern. It felt stifling.

He didn't know if it was because his eyes were glassy or because his lip was trembling, but Henry was very grateful for his grandmother's ability to completely understand what he needed. "Okay. Henry, don't worry about it." Henry gave her a look of gratitude. "You know, I think you might be right about one thing. I think there are definitely bigger forces at work here. And that gives me hope. Hope that we are going to win," Mary Margaret stated, her chin held high and that fire that was all Snow White blazing from her eyes. "In the meantime, I think we should all rest up. Emma's counting on us."

…..

The breeze blowing in across the water was still laced with the last bit of lingering winter chill. Killian clutched his coat tighter and slipped his hand into the pocket. He barely registered the clanging of metal on metal as the wind rocked the Jolly back and forth in her berth. There was only one thing he was focused on, and that was Emma.

One more day. One more day and then they'd be on their way to getting her back. He knew better than to believe that finding Merlin and convincing him to help would be easy. He had no doubt they were in for more trials and tribulations. But he was just so relieved to actually be doing something to help her, it didn't matter what he had to face. Still, Henry would be his responsibility and it was best to be prepared.

Killian began checking the supplies on his ship. He would need to stock up not only on food, but on munitions as well. The last thing he needed was to be without weaponry should they run into problems. Thankfully it seemed that while Blackbeard had commanded his ship (a thought that still made his jaw clench), he hadn't felt the need to destroy all of Killian's things. If it their situations had been reversed, he knew one of his first acts would have been to dump anything personal belonging to that villain into the sea. Perhaps Blackbeard was so pleased with gaining the Jolly, he didn't care about the things on it. After all, he did have a fleet of ships at his disposal. To him, the contents of another man's ship were hardly worth worrying about.

As Killian began to shuffle the crates of supplies around, checking to make sure his swords and pistols were all in good condition. He had barely begun when he lifted the lid off one crate and nearly dropped it in shock. Inside was Bae's cutlass. The very same one he had given to Emma in Neverland. What was it doing here? He had thought she had left it on the island. They had been in such a race to get out of there, everything else had been abandoned. If she had brought it with her, why did she leave it aboard his ship? Was it because at the time, Bae had come back to her and she hadn't needed it?

Thinking about those days made his heart clench painfully. What would have happened if Pan's curse hadn't interrupted everything? Would Emma have gone back to Neal? Would he still be alive?

He shook off the memories. Going down that road was a pointless exercise in futility. For far too long he had thought about nothing but 'what if'. It was time to stop worrying about the past and time to think about the future.

Killian clutched the cutlass tightly in his hand as he marched up the stairs to his cabin. The cutlass needed to stay in the family, and Henry would need a weapon where they were going.

…..

"Hook, a word if you please," Regina commanded, strolling away from the group while Henry said his goodbyes to his grandparents, Belle, and Robin. Killian followed her warily, hitching a thumb in his pant pocket and adopting his best swagger.

Before he had even stopped moving, Regina spun, rounding on him like a tiger. "Consider this my warning. If anything happens to Henry—"

Killian rolled his eyes. "Your Majesty, I believe we've covered this. I will not let anything befall the boy."

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I believe you mean that."

Completely taken aback, Killian faltered. "You do? I thought I didn't merit any of your trust."

Regina shot a look over his shoulder at where Henry, Mary Margaret, baby Neal, and David were all hugging each other by the dock. "You and I see things differently from them, Hook. To the Charmings, everything is black and white. But I think you know there are all sorts of shades of grey in this world."

Killian stared at the woman who once had been so convinced she was in the right, she had cursed the entire realm to a life of misery. Her heart had been colored by only one shade then-black. Now she was talking to him about right and wrong? "What's your point, Your Highness?"

She took a step closer to him, her eyes sharp and focused. For a second, she looked as if she might either kiss him or kill him. He wasn't looking forward to either outcome. Instead, she smiled her most wicked smile, the one where her red lips pulled so far back, all of her teeth showed, and said, "If you should run in to any trouble, I don't expect you to be a hero, _Hook_. I expect you to be a villain. Do whatever it takes to make sure my son returns to me unharmed. Do I make myself clear?"

He nodded, rolling his shoulders back and adopting his best pirate-y sneer. "Aye, milady. Perfectly clear."

"Here," Regina added, thrusting out her hand. A flash of purple smoke appeared and when it was gone, she held in her palm a small circular mirror. "I don't know if it will work in the Netherworld, but we might as well try. All you have to do to activate it is to run your hand around the edge in a clockwise motion. Then say the name of whoever you are trying to contact. I will have one, Mary Margaret and David will have one. And so will Belle."

He took it gratefully, stowing it safely in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. "Thank you." As an afterthought, he added, "If we are able, I will make sure Henry checks in with you as often as possible. All I ask is a small favor in return."

She glared at him untrustingly. "A favor? Why would I do that?"

He smirked. "Indulge a fellow member of the former villain's club, Your Highness. All I ask is that if you do see Emma, if you make any sort of contact, you will let me talk to her."

"Can't stand the thought of her being without your dashing self?" Regina teased.

Killian could feel his whole body tense in response. "Something like that."

He could tell she wanted to continue to harass him about his love life, but a loud laugh from Henry and Robin stopped her. Both of them had learned the hard way that love was a precious and rare thing and not something to be mocked. "Fine," she said with a half-hearted sigh. "I suppose I can do that for you."

"You have my thanks," he replied, just as Henry bounded up to take his place. Killian strolled back towards the Charmings and his ship, only glancing behind him once as Henry and his mother hugged each other fiercely. He tore his eyes away, not wanting the rush of his own emotions to cloud over such a tender moment. He wondered some days if Henry truly knew just how lucky he was.

….

Everything was ready. Henry and Killian stood at the helm of the Jolly Roger as the sun began to slowly descend. Below, a small gathering of town folk had come to witness their leaving. They lined the pier, waiting with hopeful hearts that their mission would succeed. Word had gotten around that Henry and Hook were off on a mission to save their Savior. Killian wondered if Emma knew how much she meant to these people. He made a mental note to make sure and tell her just as soon as she was rid of the Dark One.

 _We're coming for you soon, Swan._

In some ways, Killian supposed their optimism was beginning to wear off on him. There was a feeling of sudden excitement for the journey ahead as he looked toward the horizon that he hadn't felt in a very long time. In some small way, it felt good to be setting sail on a mission once more. The only thing truly missing was Emma by his side. Without her, his joy would never be complete.

They had to succeed.

The sunset off the starboard side of the Jolly was a sight to behold. All oranges and reds, the sky behind tinged in purples and blacks. His heart sped with the feeling that this was it. This was what he was meant to be doing. There was no doubt in his mind that the portal would open. He hesitated telling Henry, but he was starting to believe the lad was right.

This had to be fate.

"You ready to set sail?" Killian asked, hoisting his eyebrow at the lad and giving him a grin. The dour mood had clearly lifted from the boy as the building excitement was turning them into giddy children.

Henry returned it and added a familiar mockingly eyebrow, "Ready to set sail, _what_?"

"Are you ready to set sail, _Captain_?" Killian amended.

"Aye, aye, First Mate Jones." Henry gave him a curt salute and snapped his heels. Then he pivoted and marched his way up the stairs to stand behind the wheel.

Killian growled after him, "Oi, that's Lieutenant to you."

"Very well," Henry shouted, pointing to the set of ropes and pulleys nearest him. " _Lieutenant_ Jones, hoist the sails, and loosen the mooring lines!"

"Lad, it's the other way 'round," Killian replied with mock exasperation, as he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. In reality, the gesture was more to desperately mask his a sudden flush of emotions from being exposed.

Why had he asked Henry to call him _that_?

 _Lieutenant Jones._

It had just slipped out, unnoticed. Not until he heard the boy speak it, did he realize the implications of what he had done. The last time he was called Lieutenant, his brother was still alive and he was a man of honor. But maybe being a Lieutenant again wouldn't be so bad. It was a fitting title after all, since he was on a hero's journey. He grinned broadly to himself as he worked coiling and tying off the lines, his heart lighter than it had been for weeks. Maybe when they had saved Emma he could finally lay his past to rest and let himself feel like a real hero.

Thankfully, Henry didn't seemed to notice his struggle and he laughed as he corrected himself. "Oh, sorry. Right. Loose the mooring lines and hoist the sails!" Killian set to work quickly, making the ship ready with a very well-practiced hand. As the ship drifted away from the dock, he heard Henry call out, "Do you have the pipes, Lieutenant Jones?"

Tying down the last of the sail lines, Killian located Pan's reed pipes from the chest they'd been stored in. He held them aloft. "Aye, lad…er, Captain. I've got them."

"Sun's about to set. Let's hear some tunes!" Henry commanded merrily, directing the ship like a true ship's captain. Killian took a moment just before the last rays of sun were extinguished to watch Henry at the wheel. A sense of pride rose up within him, almost as if he was his own son. Killian rapidly shook himself from that thought. The last time he had tried to claim a boy as his own, he had fallen down into a darkness so deep he almost never made it back out.

Speaking of darkness, the light was almost entirely gone. Killian raised the pipes up, vaguely recalling the melody of a tune he had learned as a wee lad, and began to blow. The music was strange, both familiar and distant, beautiful yet sad. No doubt the melancholic nature of the song was enhanced by the magic of the pipes themselves, but as he played, and the air began to shimmer around the ship, Killian found himself completely lost.

Like living in a dream, Killian pictured a land with rolling hills and tall cliffs, a cottage with a thatched roof and warm hearth. Only instead of his mother and Liam standing at the door, it was Emma and Henry. Never had his heart ached for something so badly. Yet, he kept playing, the vision drifting out of focus as he was brought back to the moment.

"It's working!" Henry exclaimed, and Killian could see the silhouette of the Storybrooke coast fading in and out of view, like a mirage on a hot day. Then there was a bright golden pulse and it was gone completely, or rather, they were. Suddenly, Killian and Henry found themselves sailing on an ocean that looked as though it was made from crystal glass. The water around them was utterly smooth, and not even the passage of a ship the size of the Jolly did much to disturb it. There were no ripples in their wake, the water merely parting and then returning back to its smooth sheen after they had gone.

It was nighttime in the sky above them, but the stars in this land were so bright and multi-colored that it felt like the sky was hung with strings of twinkly little lights he had seen in the trees around town during winter. Each star seemed to almost dance about the sky, like they were responding to a music that no one would ever hear. Though there was currently not any moon, Killian had the suspicion that when it rose, it would no doubt be magnificent.

The only thing disturbing the scene was the presence of several large banks of very low hanging clouds. Like giant balls of wool, they seemed to hover above the water, bobbing and weaving like flames on a candle's wick. There was something almost sentient about them, the way they drifted from so forlornly. Like they were moping. Or in mourning. Why was he feeling a kinship with bloody clouds?

Killian laid down the pipes softly and returned to Henry's side. The boy was staring at the sky and sea with an enchanted look in his eyes as the dancing starlight made his eyes sparkle. "This is so cool," he said in a bare whisper.

Nodding, Killian clapped a hand down on his shoulder and said just as quietly, "Aye, lad. In all my years, I've never seen a place as wondrous as this before."

"I feel like I'm in a library or a church or something. Like I shouldn't be making any noise."

"I know the feeling. Some places are too sacred and beautiful to mar with harsh words and ugly sentiment."

They stood there looking out across the vast mirrored sea, neither one speaking. Despite knowing the needed to get on with the search, both of them seemed to take this opportunity to mentally reset. There was just something about this place that made it easy to let go of their burdens and just rest. Here, they both felt at peace.

Maybe that's why it was so dangerous.

It was Henry who came out of it first, looking around the ocean as if in search of something in particular. "Um, Killian…" he began.

"What is it, lad?"

Henry drew his hand slowly in a wide arc. "Um, as neat as this is, all I see is water. Where's the island? Where's Avalon?"

 _Bloody hell._

* * *

 **Reviews**?


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- A bit of a departure for this chapter. First is Emma's POV, then Regina's. I thought it would be interesting to show their thoughts about all that has happened since Emma became the Dark One. Also, there's a bit more action happening in the end and even some humor!**

 **Please feel free to let me know what you think!**

* * *

 _"Be sure that whatever you are is you."_  
― Theodore Roethke

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Stages of Life—Ego Identity**

It's the disconnect, the absence of her senses, Emma decides, that is the second worse the about her situation. She hates how the Dark One has control over what she hears, sees, tastes, smells, and touches. Being in this void, there is no way to tell how much time has passed, no way to tell if she's been trapped for an eternity or for only a day. No way to tell what is happening outside her small sphere of consciousness. No way to know about _them_.

Are they alright? Have they found Merlin, found a way to remove this darkness?

Are they even coming for her at all?

And this is her number one fear, the very _worst_ thing. It's the thing that makes her want to scream and wail and fuck some shit up, because- _Where are they?_

She had put all her faith in them, she had lived every second since hoping and praying and keeping that faith alive because she had truly believed they would come for her. And here she was, alone. Fucking alone. And yes, she knew she was being a bit irrational. After all, if they came to rescue her, then the Dark One would capture them and use them against her. (Because she doesn't doubt that the Dark One would totally be happy to gloat about it and therefore would want her to witness every second.) But… _dammit_! At least she'd know.

She'd know that they were okay, that they were trying. That they, too, still had hope.

There must be something wrong with her if she was at the point where she'd risk her family's safety to just have one small inkling that they love her, that she still matters more than anything. She knew it was horrible and selfish, but it was the way she felt. (And that guilt about wanting that reassurance made it all the harder for her push the encroaching darkness away, not that she'd noticed it.)

In her endless prison of nothing, all she had was her thoughts. At first, she had used the few glimpses the Dark One had allowed her to focus on its plan. It was definitely up to something, but beyond that first time, when she had witnessed the Dark One possessing the hearts of those men, she hadn't been able to work out much. All she knew was the Dark One was searching for something, and it involved gathering as many people under its spell as possible.

After she had exhausted that avenue, her mind went right back to worrying about them—Henry. Her parents. _Killian_. God, she couldn't stop thinking about him: the way he looked at the end, the tears in his eyes, and the pleading in his voice. Maybe she should have just listened to him and found another way. But _no_ , it was her job to be the Savior, her job to always put her happiness last and protect everyone else's. That's what her parents had signed her up for, after all. It all made her so _angry_.

So very angry.

Because there was also that voice of the little lost girl, the one who still wondered if maybe they didn't love her after all. The one who still thought that she was being abandoned once more. It was harder to shut out than the guilt, because it was the voice she had heard all her life. The one that told her she would never be good enough, that eventually she would fail and they would leave.

Even so, her heart warred constantly within her. The last bits of light and good were fighting against the darkness, begging her to remember the truth: of course they loved her, of course they were coming, because they would always fight for her.

 _Remember Emma. Remember._

And she was trying, really she was. She did still have some hope. But for how much longer?

 _Where were they?_

It was getting so hard to hold on. Didn't they know that?

Maybe…

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. To let go.

Maybe the Dark One had been telling the truth, that if she gave in, she might be able to control it. She was strong, she was a fighter. Anything was better than sitting in this sensory deprived prison. Wasn't it?

Maybe, if she was honest, with herself, maybe what the Dark One was saying had made sense... It had definitely been tempting. No one controlling her, telling her who she was. No one leaving. No more pain and lies and putting the greater good above her own wants and desires…

And maybe this was what she was supposed to do. She took the dark curse for a reason, she had expected to become some sort of dark and twisted thing, hadn't she? Or had she really been naïve enough when she had taken that dagger and thrust it into the swirling mass of evil that she could somehow come out of it unscathed?

Why was she fighting the inevitable?

Endless, endless circles. Round and round.

Hope, love, anger, loneliness.

And then, when the thoughts were mercifully quiet, when she truly felt like Emma once more, that's when the real pain began… because then she realized just how much she missed them. Missed them all so deeply her heart could barely take it.

 _Henry with his determination and faith and the way he would just amaze her every single day. Her parents with their support and tenderness and the way they were just there for her like no one had ever been before. And then…then there was Killian._

She missed him more than she had ever thought possible. What she wouldn't give to hear his silken, rolling voice once more. To hear his laugh and see his devastating smile. To look up and meet his blue, so blue eyes and know he could see through all her cracks and layers into the very core of her. To feel the soft kisses against her forehead, the way his perma-scruff scratched along her cheeks when he nuzzled into her neck. To be wrapped in his strong arms and feel so completely at home. She had gone and fallen so completely that she could barely function without him here. And the irony of it was that was what she had always been afraid of. Of losing him. However, in her nightmares, she had always pictured him leaving her, not the other way around.

No, that wasn't strictly true. A part of her, from the very first, had always trusted him. Had always known that he would stay, if asked. He knew the sting of loneliness far too well, knew what it was like to feel abandoned over and over again until you came to always expect that in people. But unlike her, he had never doubted his feelings towards her. Never doubted her at all.

Regrets and guilt; that was all she had left. What was he was going through? Was this what it was like for him when she was gone that year? Was he drinking himself into oblivion because she had been so afraid to tell him her true feelings until it was too late? Was he too driving himself crazy with guilt over what she had done?

She might be an open book to him, but he was no less so to her. They had always understood each other, right from the start. It was doubly so, now that she had taken on the darkness he had spent centuries living in. How had he done it? How had he not gone crazy with the ache and the pain of it all?

All she wanted now was to just see him. To just be with him. Her own happy ending involved him, there was no denying that. But she was the Dark One, or would be soon enough, and the Dark One didn't get a happy ending. Right? Wasn't that the way things worked? Villains always lost. But was she really a villain? She hadn't done anything…yet. But she had underestimated just how strong the darkness was, just how tempting. It was only a matter of time. She would lose herself to it, she knew that now. She wouldn't be strong enough.

It was only a matter of time.

Where were they?

 _They needed to hurry._

* * *

"Well, that's just fantastic," Regina commented, wringing out the sea water from her clothes. The itch to use her magic to simply 'poof' herself dry was hard to quell. However, they had all agreed before arriving, that any use of magic outside the already prepared cloaking spells might alert the Dark One to their presence. So wet clothes it was, apparently. "Remind me to send you the bill for my dry cleaning."

Beside her, Snow, David, and Ursula all gave her a look of incredulity. The Charmings were equally as soaked as she was, but Ursula merely had a little smirk on her completely dry face. _Ugh! Freaking sea witch and her stupid underwater portals. The least she could have done was warn us before hand._

"Don't blame me for choice of clothing, Regina. You're the one who chose to wear an Armani blazer to the Enchanted Forest," Ursula countered, motioning with one hand to her wardrobe, the smirk now becoming an actual self-satisfied grin.

"It's Gucci, actually, and—"

"Um, ladies. Focus," David interrupted, bringing attention to their less-than-safe surroundings. The beach they had arrived on was too exposed for a sass-off with a sea monster.

Regina growled, but dropped the attitude. For the first time since she had arrived, Regina took a hard look around her. And what she saw left her speechless, much like Snow who had been silent since they'd come through the portal and landed on the deserted beach. Although they had left Storybrooke at dawn, there was practically no light in the Enchanted Forest. There was a heavy weight of dark magic permeating the air, making it almost difficult to breathe.

"Oh my god. What happened?" Regina asked. Overhead, the sky was a rolling mix of dark storm clouds and menacing lightning, but no rain. The trees guarding the beach all look like skeletons, like someone had stripped all their leaves bare, then sliced off the bark for fun. Menacing animal noises came from the forest, as loud crashes could be heard through the copse of trees. If she didn't know better, she would have thought Ursula had brought them all to the set of a horror movie.

Ursula shook her head in frustration, running a hand up and down her arm like she was shivering. "I told you. It's the Darkness. It's spreading, covering the land in a perpetual night. But it is so much worse than just that. It's like this… _evil_ is seeping into the hearts of the people here. I don't know what to make of it." The fear in her wide, brown eyes was visible, even in this gloom.

Regina clenched her jaw and attempted to shutter away her own fears. If Ursula, a legendary villain in her own right, was worried about people becoming evil, something must seriously be wrong.

Snow took a step forward and met Ursula's eye, her voice was hesitant and almost she when she asked, "Do you think this is Em—I mean, the Dark One's- doing?"

The sea witch nodded slowly, her face betraying her pity. "I would say it has to be. But why? What's her purpose for _this_?" Her arm swept outward to the sky and back across the scarred landscape.

"That's what we need to find out," Regina interjected. It was a thought that had been bothering her ever since they had used that crystal ball to locate Emma the first time. She had known then that who she was talking to wasn't the same person that she had grown to respect and, if she was honest, call a friend. It killed her to know that Emma was basically trapped inside a darkness that should have been meant for her. Regina shuttered that thought away. She couldn't go down that path again right now. There was too much at stake. Now she needed to focus on what is was the Dark One was doing so that they could try to put a stop to it. But just what was the Dark One playing at? Why destroy the Enchanted Forest like this?

Ursula turned and pointed up a rocky path near where they were standing. "There's a village, just past that forest. It's deserted, but you should be able to find most of what you need. From there, you will be able to see the Dark One's castle. Be careful. Don't trust anyone. And keep your disguises on from now on."

Snow and David were already moving, giving the woman an appreciative nod of their heads. "We will," Snow agreed. "Thank you again for helping us, Ursula. I know you've said you're not just doing this for us, but it's no small favor you've been doing. I'm glad you've decided to let go of your own darkness."

Ursula smiled warmly back. "Thanks to Hook, I had no reason to stay a villain. He reminded me of the person I used to be and showed me it was possible to change, to be a hero again. I had forgotten what that felt like. That's why I'm doing this. But don't tell him that," she added with a wink. From the inside of her jacket, she took out a clear bottle with a stopper and handed over to David. "Here. When you are ready to go back, just place a message in here and toss it into the sea. It's enchanted to find me."

"We can't thank you enough. If there's ever anything you need from us, all you have to do is ask," David offered with a warm smile, stuffing the bottle into his pack.

With a goodbye nod, Ursula turned back to sea and dove in, barely disturbing the surface. A moment later, there was a small, bright flash underneath the waves, and then all was still.

Regina sighed as she watched her go. She shook out her wet jacket one more time, still annoyed that she'd be spending the rest of the day damp and probably chafing. "Well, I think she was right about one thing. We need to stay disguised and not trust anyone here. Are you ready?"

Snow and David met each other's eyes before looking back at her. It was annoying how in sync they always were. "Yes. And you're sure the necklaces will work?"

With a roll of her eyes, Regina merely produced the three magical necklaces from her own pack and held them in the air. "Of course I'm sure, Snow. These are perfect recreations of Zelena's pendant. All you have to do is keep it on at all times. Even the Dark One won't be able to detect its magic." She bit her tongue to stop herself from making any comments on their ability to follow simple directions, even though the temptation was unbearable. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _You are trying to change, remember. You are trying to be a better person,_ she told herself. God, this was going to be a long trip.

Snow and David each took a crystal pendant from her hand. "Okay," Snow said, slipping the chain over her head. The air wavered in front of her and began to ripple as David followed suit with his own necklace. A moment later, instead of Snow and Charming, stood the oddest-looking people Regina had ever seen. She smirked at the transformation and just barely managed to hold back her laughter.

"Oh! Snow! You…you look so… _different_ ," David commented in a reedy, nasally new voice. He was clearly flustered by his wife's new appearance and trying to be as polite about it as he could.

Regina had no such qualms about being polite and her smile grew wider and wider as she cataloged their changes. Snow had shrunk at least a foot and had aged at least 40 years. Her clothes were a patchwork of dirty rags and strange furs. Her beautiful ivory skin was tanned and wrinkled and covered in warts, and her hair was now a frizzled grey mass that Regina was pretty sure housed at least one bird's nest. Beside her, David was no longer Charming in any way. His muscular physique had been replaced by that of a thin, sickly middle-aged man wearing spectacles and a murky brown jacket that was four sizes too big. The best part, though, was that he was completely bald. Only a few tufts of orange-red hair remained just above his rather large ears.

Snow (or the old hag that was standing in Snow's place) pointed and began giggling. Only, with her new voice, the giggles came out more like demented cackles. "David, you look like Leroy and Archie's love child. Where's your hair?" Her hand flew to her throat. "And what's wrong with my voice?"

David's hand flew up to his head, searching for the missing hair as his face grew more and more distraught. Snow, who hadn't yet seen what she looked like, started to tear up as she felt the wrinkles on her face.

Despite loving every second of their misery, Regina knew they need to get focused on their mission. She stomped her feet and threw up her hands. "Oh, would you two stop. It's just a spell. Now," she began, slipping on her own necklace and transforming into an attractive, blonde-haired young maiden, "let's get moving."

With an angry pout, Snow stormed after her. "How come you look like a supermodel and we look like trolls?" Snow demanded angrily.

Regina didn't even turn around. "I didn't plan out every detail, you know. I can't be held responsible for the results of this kind of magic."

Snow turned her wrinkled neck to shake her head. "Whatever. I think you are enjoying this way too much."

There was no use in lying at this point, so Regina merely grinned broadly, her new youthful lips a bright pink. "Oh, I absolutely am." Behind both of the woman, David merely sighed loudly and shoved his hands into his pant pockets.

As they left the beach and headed for the trees, suddenly Regina called them all to a halt. "Wait, before we have to make our way through that," she said with a gesture towards the skeleton trees, "we should check to make sure the mirrors work." Pulling out the two enchanted mirrors from her bag, she handed one over to Snow and David, and kept the other for herself. She caught sight of her own reflection for a moment and chuckled softly to herself, as she fluffed her perfectly curled hair. She really did do a fine job on those magic pendants.

Snow clutched the mirror in her hand to her chest, clearly appalled by her own reflection. "We'll try Belle. You try Hook and Henry."

"Fine," Regina agreed, turning around and walking a few paces away, so that their conversation wouldn't be a distraction. She hovered her hand over the surface of the mirror, circling it once around and calling out Hook's name. Nothing happened. There was no ripple in the glass to indicate the spell had worked. She tried again, calling a little more forcefully, and still nothing. Growling in frustration, she wished she could use her magic more drastically, as the need to see Henry tugged painfully at her heart.

Over to the side, she heard Snow saying, "Belle! It's Snow. I know, I know. I look like an ogre's grandmother, it's the cloaking spell. We're just checking in. Everything alright there?"

From the glass came a tinny and distorted version of Belle's distinctively accented voice. "Yes. Rumple's still out. He's been talking in his sleep, though. I don't know why. And I checked with Granny on your son. He's doing just fine."

David leaned over, smiling into the small disk Snow held in her hands. "Thank you for looking in on Neal for us, Belle. We've got a little bit of a journey ahead of us, so we need to get going. We'll be in touch, though."

"Okay. Be safe, you guys," Belle finished. The warm glow of magic dimmed and the mirror was just a mirror once more.

Snow immediately turned on her heal. "Regina, did you get a hold of Hook?"

"No. It didn't work. Will you try?" She grumbled.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course," Snow agreed, as she repeated the process they used to contact Belle. It seemed, though, that she wasn't having any better luck than Regina. "It's not working for us, either," Snow replied, handing the mirror over to David, who added it to his travel pack. Stepping closer, she gave Regina a quick reassuring squeeze to her arm along with a small smile. "But I'm sure they're okay. We knew that it might not be possible to communicate with them in the Netherworld."

"Yes, but that doesn't make me worry any less," Regina admitted quietly. She hugged herself tightly, the dampness of her clothes still present despite the spell, but not the only reason she was shivering.

Before Snow could offer any more of her patented brand of sickeningly-sweet optimism, David reminded them then that they needed to be on the move to find shelter. "Let's get going," he said, glancing over his shoulder to the area of rocky sand below. "The longer we're on the beach, the more likely we are to draw attention to ourselves."

"Very well. Lead the way, _Not-So-Charming_ ," Regina commanded, grateful for the distraction before she let any other emotions slip. _This really was going to be hell.  
_ ….

After successfully trekking their way through the super creepy forest without incident, they arrived at the edge of a small run-down village a few hours later. One glance told Regina that the place had been left deserted from one of the two curses and not from the recent darkness. Half the buildings were in complete ruin, and the other half were barely more than two planks of wood on top of each other. However, after a bit of searching, they managed to locate a hut with a still-intact roof, a sturdy floor, and a working hearth. David went about starting a fire while Snow brought out some of their food supplies for a make-shift supper. Never in a million years would Regina have guessed that she'd be sitting around a fire with Snow and Charming (looking like the award winners for Worst Dressed Couple Ever), eating peanut butter crackers and drinking juice boxes. It was surreal to say the least.

As they ate, they discussed strategy. It was decided that for that night, they would take watch in rotation. Who knew what was lurking around outside with the strange dark atmosphere that had permeated the Enchanted Forest? In the morning, they would follow the road to the Dark One's castle. Using Belle's (and hopefully Rumple's) knowledge of the castle, they would get as close as they could to the Dark One and see for themselves what she was up to. Regina knew that they'd been lucky so far, but she suspected their luck might not hold out much longer. The Charmings were far too eager to see their daughter and she knew their impatience would only spell disaster. Every step was starting to feel like a trip to the gallows.

But that was nothing compared to the weight of her guilt.

That night, as she kept watch, Regina found herself thinking about the impact her curse had left on the Enchanted Forest. She had seen the ruined castles and villages after they had come back from Pan's curse, but at that time, she had been too focused on her pain of losing Henry to really allow herself to see the damage. Now, she saw it everywhere she looked. Not only had her curse uprooted people from their homeland and forced them to live in a foreign realm, she had destroyed the lives of anyone left behind as well. She had seen the long abandoned and barren fields, the forests that were dead and burned. Not all this destruction could be blamed on the Dark One's magic.

Regina knew whose fault it was. It was hers; her blind, obsessive quest for vengeance. The Enchanted Forest had been beautiful once. A place of wonder and light and magic. But that was no longer true. Places that were once filled with life, were now filled with nothing more than ghosts and memories.

What was wrong with her? She was a queen. She was meant to protect her people, and look at what she had done. Snow and Charming had understood what it meant to rule. They had always put the needs of the many above their own. Why had it taken her so long to see her actions for what they truly were—a petty, spiteful rant of a spoiled child. All along, though, she had never allowed herself to truly feel the guilt of her decisions, because it had gotten her Henry. Henry was worth it, she told herself time and time again. And he was, there was no denying that, but why was she struck with so much guilt now?

Basically, it came down to Emma. That damn sacrifice. Since it happened, Regina had replayed that night over and over in her mind. Why had she taken on the worst of all curses for her? Why had she given up her love so that Regina could get a happy ending? She didn't deserve a happy ending. Not now, not here amidst the destruction she had caused. This feeling, this level of guilt, was something new. For far too long, she had only thought of her own happiness and doing whatever it took to make that happen, no matter what it cost along the way. It needed to stop. The price had been too high. Too many people had suffered on her behalf. How much more did everyone have to lose? Henry had lost his mother, the Charmings had lost their daughter…again.

 _God_! And just thinking about all that Emma had lost was eating her alive. So clearly, she could remember the way Emma had told her about losing the man she loved. Emma loved Hook. Well, that wasn't a huge surprise. After all, everyone knew how that pirate followed her around like a little lost puppy, and it was pretty obvious she was mooning over him as well. She had been curious, though, why it took both of them so long to act on their feelings. Not like she wanted the details to the sex life or anything, but they did seem to be moving at a snail's pace.

It was that admission Emma had made to her when she thought Hook was dead. Emma was the one who was scared. She wanted something she didn't think she could have. She wanted it so much she pushed the people she loved away again and again. All because she had been abandoned and alone her entire life and couldn't face the thought of it happening again.

Wasn't that the bitch of it? Emma had been abandoned and alone because of Regina's curse. Her miserable life was a result of Regina's choices.

And yet, she still chose to save her.

No one, _no one_ , had ever done anything like that for her. Not once. Not ever. Why would someone do that for her? Why was she fortunate enough to have a true love and a child as wonderful as Henry? She certainly didn't deserve it when she had done so much evil.

As the black sky begin to lighten to a dull grey, signaling the start of a new day, Regina realized she had no idea how to feel about anything anymore. It was all a jumble of feelings and thoughts that she had pushed away her entire life. But one there was one thing that she knew with a razor sharp clarity-come hell or high water, Emma was getting her happy ending back, even if it meant losing hers in the process.

It was a price she was ready to pay.

…..

The others awoke shortly after dawn, eating a little bit more of their rations, and getting ready for the journey ahead. The road to the Dark One's castle was easy to find, but they all agreed that it might be best to keep to the lesser used paths through the woods for most of the trip. With Snow and David leading the way, Regina was left to bring up the rear alone. After her restless night, all this walking was starting to get on her nerves, and she was just dying to be able to use her magic to transport them several miles closer. Truthfully, she just wanted to this whole mess to be over. She didn't know if she could stand to have all her thoughts of the night before keep playing on a loop the entire time she was in the Enchanted Forest. What she needed was a distraction, and other than a few times she had tripped over fallen logs, the journey had so far been uneventful. To keep herself occupied and to keep the guilt from drowning her, she thought about Henry.

Ever since Emma's sacrifice, Henry had been a different kid. Who could blame him? He was such an optimistic, loving, brave boy and one of his mothers had just taken on the darkest evil there was. Several times she had tried to get him to open up, but he kept saying he was fine or that he was busy looking for Merlin or whatever. It was killing her to see him in pain and not be able to do anything about it. But he had seemed happier recently with this whole Avalon business. It was killing her, though, that he was out there in the Netherworld of all places, with only Hook to protect him. And the stupid mirrors didn't even work, so she had no way of contacting him. What she wouldn't give to just know he was safe.

Hook had better be keeping his promise.

She sighed heavily, lifting her skirts so that they didn't get snared in thorns again, and rushed to keep up with Snow and David, who had been oddly silent this whole day. By the way they were covering ground at a breakneck pace, she knew their silence had to be because they were anxious to see their daughter. She could relate.

Up ahead, the path split and David was signaling for Snow and her to follow him on the right hand curve. As they were approaching, however, an old woman and what seemed to be her grandchild came walking down the other path. Apparently, they were just as startled to see someone, because the old lady yelped and toppled her small cart of goods all over the ground.

Without hesitation, Snow began to race forward to help them. Regina threw out her hand to stop her before she could move and said quietly, "Remember what Ursula said. You can't trust anyone."

Snow looked scandalized. "It's just an old lady and a kid, Regina."

Shaking her head, Regina relaxed her grip. "Maybe, but we haven't seen any one else this entire trip, so don't say I didn't warn you." She remained planted where she was, letting the Charmings do their thing. Despite feeling guilty about the way she had ran her kingdom, she wasn't about to start acting like a saint anytime soon.

Snow and David approached the two travelers slowly. "We're sorry we frightened you. Can we help?" Snow asked, bending to pick up an apple that had tumbled away from the other goods in the cart. She held it out to the child.

Without warning, the child clamped her hand down on Snow's arm with a show of incredible strength. Her face was a void of any recognition that she knew what she was even doing. Snow struggled against her, but was loathe to use any real force on a young child.

As she yanked and pulled and pleaded with the girl, David rushed over, saying, "Hey! What's wrong with you? Let go!" Regina started to move forward as well, confused by how a girl who was less than half Snow's weight and size could keep her immobilized when the old grandma reached out and began twisting David's arm.

How had things gone bad so quickly? Regina was basically weaponless, and David was struggling to get his arm free to reach his sword while Snow was still trying not to hurt the little girl. As the only one free, Regina could only yell and try to shove the crazed duo off the Charmings, but their strength was unnatural to say the least. It was like trying to budge two iron statues. Just as Regina had decided to say hell with it and grab David's sword herself, the old lady opened her mouth and began to screech. Like a blaring car horn, the sound was loud enough that it echoed off the trees.

"That can't be good," Regina snapped, and David and Snow agreed, doubling their efforts to break free from the iron grips of their captors. "We need to get out of here!" Surely, everyone in the area had heard that noise, and it would only be a matter of time before people started coming to check it out. True enough, just as she predicted, she began to hear the tell-tale sign of approaching horses. With Snow and David still struggling, there was nothing else she could do except use her magic.

Regina could feel it sparking along her fingertips as a ball of flame began to grow in her palm. Her lips twisted into a sneer, because, damn it felt good to do that again.

Snow looked over at the sudden glow and cried, "Regina! What are you doing?"

"I'm baking a cake, Snow. What does it look like?"

"You can't!" She screamed.

Regina lifted the fireball up and aimed, hitting the old grandmother square in the shoulder. The woman's head spun faster than Regina had thought humanly possible as a wicked glint lit in her eyes. Instantly she dropped David's arm and began stalking towards Regina instead. "Come on, Granny! Let's see what you're made of." From the corner of her eye, she caught David scrambling to free Snow, resorting to using the butt of his sword to knock the girl to the ground.

As the old woman neared, Regina took a step back and formed another fireball, letting it loose with deadly accuracy. This time, it hit the woman's skirt, instantly setting them alight. She didn't even look fazed as the flames began licking at her legs and torso, her face never flinching at what must have been unbearable pain. Regina backed away farther, the woman still trying to grab her even as the flames engulfed her whole body. At last, the fire became too much, and the old lady's eyes dimmed as she fell to the forest floor, the sickening smell of burnt hair and skin wafting over them.

Coming back from the horror that lay in front of her, she was barely aware of Snow and David screaming her name. She looked up only in time to feel a pair of ruff hands grab her from behind.

"You are coming with us," a deep, menacing voice said, as she struggled in the arms of her captor. Just like the old lady and the girl, this man held her with an unbreakable force.

She hadn't seen him yet, but she could sense there were more men coming, if the way the loud crunching of branches and leaves was any indication. Glancing up, she could see the horrified faces of Snow and David and she knew what she had to do. "Go!" She screamed. "Run!"

Snow shook her head, "We're not leaving you!"

"Then save me later. Just go now!"

Regina could see the acceptance in David's eyes and he tugged on Snow's arm. Summoning her magic, Regina focused on creating a thick fog to mask their retreat back into the woods. Thankfully, it seemed to work, and as they disappeared from view, she hoped they would be able to make it to safety. She also hoped they wouldn't do anything stupid like try to save her life.

Suddenly, she was spun violently around to face the blank-eyed man who had caught her. "Oh, she's going to like you."

A cold shiver ran down her back. There was only one 'she' who he could be referring to.

Emma. The Dark One.

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 **Reviews?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! Life is kind of hectic at the moment. However, this chapter I hope will make up for it. At 10,000 words, it better! I had no idea it was getting that long.  
**

 **Have I mentioned that this story might contain sexy times? Have I mentioned that this story contains major angst? Well, I have now. Consider yourself warned.**

 **Hold on. The seas are about to get rough from here on out, but never fear, there's always a happy ending coming.**

 **But first...Captain Cobra!**

* * *

 _"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."_  
― Oscar Wilde, _The Importance of Being Earnest_

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 **Chapter 9: Stages of Change—Relapse**

After scanning the entire ocean with his spy glass and double then triple checking that Henry was right, Killian finally admitted defeat. When their attempt at contacting the others through the enchanted mirror failed as well, he knew that this excursion was not going to go as easily as he had been hoping. Growing despondent and not wishing to subject the boy to his moodiness, he told Henry that he would take watch that night and made the boy get some sleep.

Killian stared out into the strange, still ocean wrestling with his thoughts. His throat felt dry and his fingers tensed with the desire to reach for his familiar flask of rum. But he knew better. Drinking now would only further serve to prove to Henry that he was uncaring of his mother's fate. After the initial shock had worn off and he'd put himself back together, he'd made a promise to himself and others that there would be no more rum until Emma was safely back home. That didn't mean he didn't crave it, though. Too many nights he had spent like this; elbows braced on the wooden side rails, his body leaning heavily over the edge so that he could pretend as if there were nothing else in the world except the water and sky. Losing himself to the wind and waves so that for a moment he could pretend that it all didn't hurt so bloody much.

He knew he should take this opportunity to rest, but found that he had no desire to sleep whatsoever. They were so close to the end now, everything had lined up just like someone had set the playing pieces in a perfect row. Yet, here they were, no farther along than before. If this was a game, he wished he knew the rules. He had been so certain that once they had gone through the portal, that they would have arrived at Avalon and Henry could go about tracking down Merlin. He didn't even have familiar stars to guide him in this land. He was quite literally adrift.

Never had he felt farther away from Emma, and never had he missed her more.

….

Morning came sooner than he'd expected, and with it, a whole new level of awe for this place. The sky above transformed from inky black to brilliant yellow and then to the most vivid blue he'd ever seen. The sun glowed orange, bringing the whole world into a sharp focus. The sea of course was a perfect mirror of the sky. So much so, that at times, it felt like they were literally sailing above the ground, especially since the clouds, which had been few and scattered last night, were now doubled in size and number.

Killian heard the tell-tale sign of Henry approaching from below and greeted him with a smile and a falsely bright, "Morning, lad!"

Henry nodded sleepily, his hair was kinked up in the back and his clothes rumpled giving him the look of someone who had just rolled out of bed. Killian opened his mouth to make some sort of comment about a captain always appearing respectable, but when he saw the lad's eyes grow large as he spun slowly in all directions, he laughed instead.

"Whoa. This… it feels like were flying," Henry said, a grin spreading over his cheeks.

"Aye, that it does," Killian agreed.

"Still no sign of land?" The boy asked, stepping over closer and mimicking the way he reclined on the rail. His shorter stature allowed him to put his chin on his folded arms instead of bending down like Killian did.

"Not yet, I'm afraid, but there's a strong, steady breeze, and despite appearance, we are making good speed. I'm sure it won't be long until we come upon something."

Henry frowned, the light from the golden sea rippling across his cheeks. "Do you even know what direction we should be going? What if the wind takes us the wrong way?"

"A valid point, lad," Killian sighed. He had been thinking much the same thing all night long, so he wasn't about to blame the boy for his surliness. "This is an uncharted realm, and I've no idea what way this Avalon is located. However, I feel that fate has played no small role in our adventure so far. Therefore I feel that we must now leave it up to fate to take us in the right direction."

Still not looking at him, Henry scoffed, "You really think that will work?"

Killian furrowed his brow trying to guess at what the boy was feeling, given the decidedly uncharacteristic way he was acting. Again he got the sense that there was something he was missing, some hidden source of anger that was keeping him from his usual hopeful self. "Seeing as we have no other choice, aye, I think it might work. And here I thought you were supposed to be the optimist."

Surprising him, Henry actually turned to face him, the breeze blowing away the heavy locks on his forehead so that Killian could get a good look at his eyes. They looked pained, like he hadn't slept well in a long time. They looked… _as haunted as his own._

"I…I don't know if…" Henry broke off, awkwardly shuffling his feet against the wood of the deck. It seemed like he was struggling with something, unsure what he wanted to say. He sighed heavily, looking back towards the water. "I want to. I want to believe everything is going to work out, just like I always do, but I just…can't. Something's wrong with me," he added in a voice both so broken and soft Killian's heart ached for him.

He wanted to pull Henry into a tight embrace, wanted to assure him that what he was feeling was normal, wanted to take that haunted look out of his eyes and make him smile and laugh again. Gods, he was so much like his mother.

 _What do I do, Swan?_

Stepping closer, Killian kept his own voice quiet. "Henry, lad, nothing is wrong with you. What you have gone through, no one should ever have to go through that."

"But I'm supposed to have the heart of the truest believer and now I don't know if I've got it in me to believe in anything."

Killian sighed, opting to sling an arm around his shoulder instead of a hug. When he was immediately pushed away, he took that as a positive sign and continued. "You're hurting. It's understandable. Do you believe you're mother loves you still?"

Henry looked up at him, his hazel eyes tinged with gold and green and looking so much like Emma's, Killian felt his throat go numb. He managed to keep his face calm while Henry nodded and said, "Yeah. I do."

"And do you believe your mother will win, that she'll find a way to fight off the darkness?"

This brought out a small smile on the boy's face. "Yeah. My mom is awesome and she can do anything."

"Then the rest will come," Killian finished, trying his best to give him a hopeful smile. Henry returned it, but without any real conviction. Stepping away from the one-armed embrace, the boy once more watched the puffy clouds drifting lowly over the water.

 _I'm no good at this, Swan. What do I do now?_

The uncertainty lingering in the boy's gaze tugged at his heart in the worst way, and suddenly, Killian remembered the gift he had wanted to give him. As he thought about the cutlass, he realized he knew exactly what the lad needed in order to forget his pain, if even for a moment. "Looks like we're going to be out here for a while, what say you to a bit of sparring?"

"You want to have a fight?" Henry asked with a small amount of teasing skepticism.

Killian nodded and lifted his chin. "Aye, a sword fight. Between men," he added, slapping Henry's chest with the back of his hand. "And I've got just the weapon for you. Why don't you man the wheel why I gather us up some breakfast and suitable arms?"

Henry mocked saluted and flashed him the first real smile he'd seen in quite some time. "Aye, Lieutenant Jones. Sounds like a bloody good idea," he teased, doing a much better job at his accent than Emma ever did. "Your Captain requires sustenance, preferably of the iced strawberry kind."

"Right away, sir." Killian replied quickly, his face breaking into a wide grin of his own.

 _Well, Swan, maybe I can handle this after all,_ he thought warmly as he disappeared below deck.

…

"You know, I've never quite understood you and your mother's obsession with these little pastries," Killian commented, an eyebrow raised in question as he glared at the small rectangular biscuit in his hand.

"They're called Pop Tarts and they're awesome," Henry answered, his voice muffled by the bite he had just taken.

Killian took a hesitant bite, not knowing what to expect from this 'Pop Tart'. "Rather bland if you ask me, and it looks nothing like a tart."

Henry stuffed the rest of his pastry into his mouth in one bite and gave him a smug look. "Says you. Maybe you should try the cinnamon and brown sugar one instead."

"No, the strawberry was quite sufficient." He grumbled, finishing off his breakfast with a large portion of water (and wishing it were rum). He then pulled out the second pastry from the shiny paper and eyed it much the same as the first. "Why are there colored dots on it? Are they somehow meant enhance the flavor or do they just distract you from it?"

Henry snorted and then broke into a tight laugh. "I'm just going to say yes."

Tossing the offending tart back into the box, Killian rose and held out his hand. "Are you ready for our lesson, lad?"

Henry jumped to his feet, puffing out his chest. "Captains don't need lessons. Maybe I'm going to be the one to school you. Or did you forget that it was me who knocked out Blackbeard?"

Killian's eyes sparkled proudly, relishing the return of their easy banter and playfulness. He had no wish to lose this openness between them now that he had finally got it back. "I've not forgotten about that, lad, but I'd hardly call it a fair assessment of my abilities," He stated with an exaggerated pout that Henry merely scoffed at. He held up one ringed finger as if making a point. "However, I must give you credit for knocking that wanker flat out like you did. Served him right. Do you know that he made me shine his ruddy boots every day?"

Henry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, not about to give him an ounce of pity. "It wasn't real, Killian."

"Aye, but I've still got the memory of it," Killian added bitterly. His gaze shifted from the boy to the small bundle of weapons he had brought up with him, thinking about what was contained inside. He took a step closer to Henry and clapped a hand upon his shoulder as he ducked his head down, "If I haven't told you already, lad, you were quite brilliant back there. I know your mother was not only proud, but impressed. As was I."

He looked away, somewhere far out to see, but Killian didn't miss the haunted look in his eyes. There seemed to be a million thoughts going through his head, and Killian couldn't guess at even one. "Yeah, wish she would have been able to tell me that in person," Henry muttered.

Killian stepped away, knowing now was the time for distraction and to give the boy his gift. He unwrapped the cutlass from the bundle and held it out in front of him, "Er, um…here."

Henry took it, giving him a puzzled look. "What is it? Other than the obvious, I mean."

Glad there was still a bit of humor to be found in the boy's tone, Killian scratched at his ear and then let his hand fall into a looping roll. "That cutlass belonged originally to your father. In Neverland, I gave it to your mother. I thought it lost with the Jolly, but when she was returned, so was it."

Henry tightened his grip on the scabbard and then frowned. "This…this belonged to both of them?"

"Aye," Killian hesitated before adding, "I know your parents would want you to have it."

Henry turned away, pulling the sword to his chest and nodded. "Okay. Um… thanks, Killian."

He could sense the sadness seeping back into the air and knew that he couldn't allow Henry to dwell on whatever dark thoughts were plaguing him. With a perfectly executed flourish, he pulled out his own blunted sparring sword and swirled around, brandishing it in front of him. With his most dashing smile, Killian turned to Henry and said, "Shall we?"

It took only a moment for the boy to respond, sliding the cutlass from its scabbard in a smooth, practiced move. He returned the challenge and gave Killian his own dashing pirate's smile. "Prepare to eat steel, Hook!"

….

Although he had learned a lot about sword fighting techniques from his grandfather, and had considered himself to be getting quite good at it, Henry hadn't been prepared for Killian's effortless skill. Killian, or rather Hook (for it seemed more suitable to call him that when he was in fighting mode), was not only extremely quick, but his eye was as sharp as the tip of his namesake. Nothing got past him, it seemed. Try as he might, Henry couldn't catch Hook off-guard, even for a second. It made him truly appreciate just how different the cowardly deckhand version had been.

And how great of a teacher he was. For when Hook gave you praise, you knew you had earned it.

"Eyes up, lad!" Hook shouted, nudging his arm with the blunted tip of the curved blade he wielded as a practice sword. "In battle, you can't afford to lose focus."

Battle? Did Hook actually think that he might need to prepare for out-and-out warfare? His grandfather had never taught him how to deal with true warfare; lessons with him had been more about proper dueling etiquette and self-protection. But a battle? Henry didn't know if he was really ready for that level of realism.

They had been mock fighting steadily for what felt like hours. The sun had long since passed midday and was now hovering somewhere over the horizon. As bright as it was here in this realm, at least it wasn't all that hot, even with the humid breeze brought in from over the ocean. It felt so good to just be doing something, though, he wouldn't have minded even if it had been scorching out.

His mood was further lifted by the fact that there was something oddly magical about the whole scene. Henry was hard pressed to explain it, but somewhere between the sword fight on a pirate ship; the bright, vivid patchwork of colors; and the steady, flat shine of the ocean; he finally felt like he was truly living inside a fairy tale. It didn't solve his problems, but the overwhelmingly excitement and wonder helped to keep the darkest thoughts at bay.

With Hook giving him little-to-no quarter when it came to fighting, there wasn't time to think about anything else anyway. Unlike practicing with his Gramps, Hook taught him to fight in a much more practical way, including how to fight dirty if necessary. And without anyone else around to moderate his actions, both of them were really able to let themselves go, to really give into the moment and just _be_. Sure he had taken a few knocks and scrapes, but in a weird way, it made everything better.

Panting heavily, Henry side-stepped the swish of Hook's blade, swinging his cutlass up and around, blocking the attack from his left at the last moment earning him a proud smirk from the pirate. "Good form, lad!" One thing he had learned long ago was that when Hook gave a compliment, there was nothing false about his admiration. It gave him a warm feeling of pride every time he heard those words.

New energy flowed through him with the compliment, and Henry felt ready to try the sweeping move that Grandpa David had taught him. According to him, it was supposed to allow him to disarm any opponent. Their blades connected with a sharp, metallic ping, and then Henry twisted his arm slightly, pushed with his elbow and lunged forward.

Hook was grinning widely at the move, out of breath as well, but there was something soft in his eyes, something Henry couldn't quite name, and he hesitated ever so slightly. By all rights, Hook should have easily overpowered him in that moment, but for some reason, he didn't take it. Instead, Henry seized the opportunity to finish what he started and connected with Hook's sword again, sliding his own along the blade while sparks danced from the tip. He swirled his wrist as fast as he could, using every ounce of strength and was rewarded with the completely shocked face of Hook as his sword flew in the air, clattering across the deck.

There was a whole minute of stunned silence between them as they both stared at the fallen sword. Suddenly, Hook began to chuckle, the sound growing into full blown laughter, while he bent double and braced himself on his knees.

Henry turned to him, still dazed. "I did it." I was as much a question as a statement. "I actually beat you. I beat Captain Hook!"

"Aye, lad, that you most certainly did," he wheezed.

Henry stared at him closely. "And you didn't let me win?"

Killian stopped laughing and looked affronted. "What kind of teacher would I be if I let you win? That was all you, Henry," he reached over and tousled his sweaty hair. "Well done, m'boy."

"Wow. Just…" Henry began. _I can't wait to tell mom about this._ Abruptly, the laughter stopped and his face the humor and happiness from the moment suddenly soured on his tongue. He could see the confusion on Hook's face and so he turned his head, making a show of getting the cutlass back in its sheath. "You know what?" He said thickly, hoping the pirate didn't hear the way his voice was catching or the way his breath was heaving. He kept looking down, unable to look him in the eye at the moment and not lose it completely. As much as he liked Hook, he didn't want to break down in front of him. He had just beat him in a sword fight, the last thing he wanted was for Hook to think he was weak. "All that beating you at sword fighting has made me pretty hungry. I'm going to find something to eat?" He said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady and not let Hook see the wetness threatening to spill from his eye.

In a less-than-convinced tone, Hook replied with a very dry, "Aye. Or you could simply tell me what's wrong now and spare us both a good deal of time beating around the proverbial bush."

Anger rushed through him, anger born of embarrassment and fear. "I don't want to talk about it. Not with you," Henry all but spat, hurrying away from the intense stare of Hook's eyes down into the dim, cool recesses of his ship. "Leave me alone!"

Henry had barely made it to the galley when his composure failed and he fell to the floor and wept, just like a poor, pathetic, baby wanting his mother. Never had he felt more like a helpless little kid in his life.

…

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," Henry began without an ounce of preamble. It had been nearly an hour since the boy had disappeared down the stairs. Killian knew enough of Emma's way of dealing with her emotions to know not to push the boy until he was ready, therefore he knew better than to try and follow him. The red, puffy rings around his eyes were also a dead giveaway that he had spent the better part of that hour crying himself out. He could guess what it was that made the boy so sad, and it nearly killed him that he couldn't do more to ease the boy's suffering. But he knew no words would ever be enough. He knew because he, too, missed Emma so badly, it made him want to cry as well.

Killian nodded, and offered him a seat on a barrel nearby. "No offense taken, lad. I know why you were angry." He hesitated for a moment before steeling himself and trying his luck. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He could see Henry tense up, his whole body going rigid. _Since when had he acquired that particular trait of Emma's?_ Killian thought randomly.

"Sure," Henry sighed, not yet sitting down and instead pacing slowly. "I guess I owe you that."

Tilting his head so that he could better see the boy's downcast face, Killian said, "I know that you are worried about your mother, but I sense that there is more going on with you than simply that."

"That's not a question," Henry argued.

Killian couldn't help but smile at that. "I wasn't finished, lad. My question is, do you wish to talk about it?"

He could see the boy struggling with the answer. Slowly, he began to shake his head and Killian's heart fell. All the ground they had gained today was slipping away from him. "Not right now," Henry replied. Killian nodded in response and began to pull back, feeling defeated. He figured he would head back up to the helm and give the boy some space to work through things on his own before he tried again. However, before he got two steps away, Henry called out to him. "Maybe later, though."

Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all.

And then it happened. Henry looked up, giving him an apologetic smile and in that moment, all Killian could see was the countless faces of all those young men and women who had trusted him and who he'd let down in some way. Bae, Ursula, countless nameless lost boys blurring into one. All left to suffer or worse because of the darkness that lingered in his soul. He had failed them all. Failed to be a better man, a hero that they needed. Was Henry to be another to add to that list? Was there something about him that just meant anything he touched became cursed?

Killian shook his head, trying to clear away those thoughts. Where had they come from? He'd spent lifetimes plagued by those demons and had truly thought he was doing better with his self-loathing. He knew he had a tendency to feel shame whenever anyone looked at him like he was a real person not some puppet, and he knew it was the weight he carried from all those years of selfish living. But he had thought he was doing better, finally accepting the idea that he could possibly be a hero someday. And then it all comes flooding back. Maybe he would never be over it completely. Maybe he would never be good enough.

Or maybe he was just tired. It dawned on him then, just how bone weary he truly was. He needed sleep, could feel it tugging at his senses, wanting him to fall under, but Henry needed him here. He couldn't just leave the lad to fend for himself while he caught a few z's.

He must have been swaying on his feet while he thought, because suddenly, Henry was looking at him with a frown and saying, "Killian? No offense, but you kind of look like crap. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Killian arched a brow at him and tried to muster up a smile. "It will take more than a lack of rest to destroy my dashing looks. Besides, can't leave you all alone up here and someone needs to be watching for the island at all times."

"I can handle it," Henry said with a shrug.

"Aye, but both your mothers, your grandmother, and your grandfather, and probably the entire bloody population of Storybrooke would all have my neck should anything happen to you on my watch," Killian countered.

"Seriously?" Henry said with an eye roll to rival both of his mother's combined. "Just go to bed. I think I can handle a few hours of staring at oddly-shaped clouds and a completely boring sea. Besides if anything even remotely interesting should happen, I'll wake you up. I promise."

"Lad…"

"Killian, I'll be fine," he said with a stern look that refused argument.

 _Gods, Emma. What a lad! You should be here._

The yawn he could no longer hold back sealed the deal. Killian nodded and made his way towards the stairs, but not before picking up the cutlass and replacing it in Henry's lap. "Perhaps you're right, you have proven yourself to be more than capable of handling yourself in any situation. And who knows what this journey might bring? Still, I ask that you wake me in a few hours so that you can get some rest as well. Wouldn't want your dashing looks to be ruined, either."

Henry gave him a cheeky grin and said, "Not possible. I was born adorable."

Killian chuckled merrily, a light feeling settling over him that he hadn't felt in a long time. A feeling that all would be well. A feeling of true hope. "Aye, m'boy. That you most certainly were."

…

Sleep came upon him almost the second his head hit the pillow. Dark, dreamless sleep was all he wished for, but he was awoken all too soon by a soft knock on the door. Cursing mildly under his breath, he hauled himself from the bed to see what the lad was wanting.

"Henry, this had better be…" Killian began, rubbing his eyes, as the words died on his tongue.

"Aren't you going to let me in, Captain?" Emma asked with a soft note of teasing. She was there, standing just outside his doorway, dressed in a soft black shirt, those tight jeans she loves, and tall leather boots. Her hair glowed like spun starlight in the faint rays of the moon.

When at last he felt his breath return to his body, Killian nodded and stood back. As she entered, he shook off the last of his haze and quickly reached out for her, desperate to know if this was real or just a dream. "Emma, is it really you?" He asked, not daring to hope, but as his hand laced through her soft golden hair, he knew this was indeed real, and that she was here.

She bit her lip and nodded at him, and he watched as tears flooded her jade eyes. "I'm here. I don't know how, but I'm really here," she cried, falling into his waiting arms.

"Oh, Emma!" He cried, pulling her in tightly and nuzzling his face into her hair, the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla calming his racing heart. She melted into his arms, holding onto him just as tightly. "I've missed you so bloody much!" He exclaimed, pulling himself back so that he could take in every freckle on her face, every dimple, every fleck of gold in her green eyes. "I don't understand, Swan. How are you here? How is this possible?" He asked, his eyes blinking back the tears.

"I don't know. I've been stuck in the darkness for so long, all I wanted was to just see you one more time. And then I was just here, on your ship," she said, her tears mingling with his as their lips met for a searing kiss. She was so warm and soft and _real_. He couldn't begin to understand how this was possible, but he wasn't about to let a second go wasted.

She pulled back for air first, smiling shyly at him, bringing her thumb up to stroke at the scar on his cheek. He felt himself leaning into her, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the moment. "Emma, I love you. I love you," he murmured, repeating the words over and over until he was certain she understood just how much he meant them. He opened his eyes, watching for her response, eager to know if what she had said to him before was true, or simply a goodbye.

When all he saw was tenderness and love reflected back, he knew she loved him, too. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her back for another kiss. Only this one quickly went from loving to something _needier_ as their tongues tangled and the electricity that always existed between them intensified.

"Killian," she sighed heavily, leaning in to press herself against him in the most tantalizing way. "I don't know how long I have. And I'm tired of wasting our moments. I need you. I just… I need you."

Something in him snapped at the sound of her voice cracking. Something primal and hungry and virile that he had denied for so long and couldn't deny any longer. He pushed back against her, letting her feel the strength of his desire as his hook snaked around her waist and pulled her body closer. If this was a dream, then he didn't care. If this was some trap from the Dark One, then he didn't care. All that mattered was that she was here, and she was still Emma, and right now, she needed him just as much as he needed her.

Unable to stop himself, his lips crashed down upon hers, teeth scraping against teeth, his fist anchoring itself into her hair as he pulled her even harder into his firmness and began circling his hips around her. She moaned as he suckled her bottom lip and tangled her tongue with his own. He could feel her running her hands up under his shirt to play with his chest hair and his muscles; the tantalizing scrape of her fingernails against his bare skin almost making him come undone.

"Killian?" She said, pulling away to breathe and plant small kisses across his scruff and down his neck towards his shoulders.

"Hmm?" He moaned, the blood rushing downward through his body making harder than he ever thought possible. He relished in the delicate caress of her lips over his, and how she was finally back in his arms. Who cared how it happened. He just wanted to savor every second of this moment.

"Make love to me," she whispered against his chest.

Startled by her demand, he groaned and pulled her back so that he could see her face. She was staring deeply into his eyes and he could feel every inch of her heat warming him to his soul. There was no hesitance in her eyes, no fear, nothing but desire and want. It seemed she was finally ready, and it couldn't have come a moment too soon. "Aye, my love. As you wish," he panted as he delved back into her.

He slid his hand lower on her body, cupping her breasts firmly and squeezing ever so slightly. She threw her head back, biting her lips until they turned deep red, and her eyes darkened with lust. While he fondled and caressed her, she began working the buttons of his shirt. He smiled when she finally grew frustrated and ripped the last two open. When she looked up at him with that mischievous glint in her eye that meant she knew exactly what she was doing to him, it was all he could do not to throw her on the bed and have his way with her then and there. But he knew that this moment called for something special, something more than a hard, quick fuck. She had asked him to make love to her and that was exactly what he intended on doing.

"Emma, you are so beautiful." He whispered, trailing his mouth down over her neck until he found her other breast and began mouthing her through the fabric. "The most beautiful creature in all the realms," he added. With his hand and hook, he made quick work of her bra and shirt until she was bare before him. Wasting no more time, he latched himself onto her breast, causing her to roll her head back and moan as he circled her nipple with his tongue. He could feel her knees buckling as he increased the motion and he wrapped his hook arm under her thigh to keep her upright. Knowing they needed to move this to a better location than simply standing in the middle of his cabin, he slowly began inching his way back to his bed.

When his knees hit the bed, he released her breasts with a cheeky smile and said, "Lie down, Swan."

She quickly complied, hastily unzipping and removing her boots, jeans, and underwear as she scooted back onto his bed. He towered above her, relishing the sight of her naked body and the way her golden hair spilled out over his pillow, the way her heavy breathing caused her chest to heave and nipples grow hard, and the way her eyes were almost black with want. "Gods above! You are a vision," he exclaimed. Just as quickly, he pulled off his own shoes and pants, watching as her eyes trailed down his completely exposed body. Before he joined her, she lifted her lust darkened eyes to his and propped herself up on her elbows. He waited for the inevitable Swan comment with his eyebrow quirked.

Suddenly, she blushed and turned away. "Oh shut up," she said, "you know you look good."

He laughed, a joy bubbling up inside of him from a places he long since thought dead. It was like someone had turned on the light after an endless night of darkness. It was Emma. It was her light. Falling on top of her softly, he gently nuzzled at her neck until she once more looked at him. "Swan, you have no reason to be ashamed of anything. I love you." Now that he could allow himself those words, it was like he couldn't stop saying them. If he had the ability, he would have shouted them to the world.

Her lashes fluttered and she sighed, "I love you, too." Her words sparked the fire that had been simmering inside him until it was a raging inferno. Suddenly, all he wanted was to be inside her, to feel the connection of their bodies as he did their souls. With his body propped up on his hook arm, he traced a line down her skin with his fingers until he was hovering just over wet heat. Cautiously, he circled them around her sensitive nub, licking his lips at the way her back arched and her eyes rolled back. She cried out his name, one hand carding into his hair, the other massaging into his ass.

He shuddered under her touch, trying to ignore the way his cock ached with need. Slowly, he dipped his fingers lower, pushing into her center, as she began to rut against his hand. She was so hot and wet he nearly came just from touching her. Instead, he pressed forward, slipping his fingers in and out of her, watching entranced as she writhed and moaned.

Searching for the area just inside that would make her explode, he missed it when her hand suddenly drifted away from fondling his backside and went for his own throbbing member. At the feel of her fingers upon his sensitive erection, a wretched moan tore loose from his throat, and he couldn't help but rock his hips into her.

"That's a dirty trick, love," he panted hotly into her ear. She shuddered, but her eyes locked on his, as her fingers continued to stroke over him, driving him insane with need.

Still stroking her with his fingers, he could feel her body on the edge of release. Focusing all his effort on helping her find her release, he ignored the way she was making him feel. She was so close to falling, all she had to do was let go. Swirling his tongue around her ear, he found a pulse point under her jaw and began to suck. "Come for me, Emma."

"Killian! Oh…god!" she cried out, her voice pitchy and breathless.

"That's it, love. I've got you," he whispered, as he felt the walls inside begin spazsming and pulsing with her orgasm.

Working her through it, he rutted himself into the bed, trying to relieve some of his own need. After a moment, he sensed her returning to her senses and he knew he could no longer hold himself back. "Emma, I need to be in you. Please." At this point, he no longer was above begging. Anything to be inside her.

She nodded as he lined himself up, her legs automatically circling around him, their bodies a perfect match. Holding himself steady, he began to push forward, the tip of his erection ghosting over her. They moaned in chorus at the superficial contact, until her back arched up and it drove him in deeper. Blinking, he looked at her one more time, to confirm that this was really happening. She smiled up at him, her eyes deeply green and beckoning him on as he began to thrust in earnest.

It was more amazing than he had dared dream it could be. "You are so bloody wet, love," he said, not even aware that he was voicing his thoughts aloud. Her lashes fluttered against her pink flushed cheeks. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, not with the way her body felt so right in his arms and the way the slick glide into her was so effortless. Yet, he wanted more than just sex with her, he wanted the love.

With a supreme effort, he slowed himself down, until he was still connected, but just barely moving. She frowned in confusion as he leaned heavily into her. Pushing back her sweat-soaked hair, he tried to wordlessly to tell her what he was doing, but the instant their eyes connected, she seemed to understand. Time stopped around them as they stared at each other. He felt like he was falling down the crest of a giant wave, like his soul was leaving his body and floating away, like he was losing himself inside of her. He could feel her body soften even more, her muscles and limbs turning molding into him, as everything else melted into oblivion.

In this moment it was just the two of them. He wasn't 'Captain Hook;' he was just Killian Jones. She wasn't 'the Savior;' she was just Emma Swan. There was no magic, no Dark One, no curses. There was nothing but their love.

He lowered himself to her mouth, taking his time to relish in the feel of her kisses, both needy and sweet as he slowly continued to thrust in and out. Even though he knew it should be impossible, he could swear that he felt their hearts beating together as one.

"I never imagined," she started, as her voice got swallowed up in his kiss.

"What was that?" He asked, pulling back only far enough to rub noses.

"I never imagined it could be like this," she said, her eyes pooled with tears.

There was a dampness on his own cheeks he could barely explain as well. He nodded almost imperceptibly, "Aye, love. This is more than I'd ever dared hope for."

Her mouth turned downward, and a small crease formed between her brows. "Don't…don't say it like that, Killian. I'm sorry I was so scared of how much you meant to me that I kept pushing you away. I'm sorry I wasted so much time. And now…" her voice broke into a shattered sob.

His heart ached for her, for the regret and fear he knew she was feeling. "Shh. Love, don't do that to yourself. You've nothing to apologize for. This isn't the end for us, I promise you. I'm here, Henry's here, we're going to find Merlin and rescue you, so don't you start giving up now."

She clutched at his back, squeezing him as hard as she could, like she was afraid that if she let go they'd fly apart. "Killian, I don't know if I can hold out much longer. I'm trying but it's so hard. My mind and my heart keep slipping into the darkness. I can feel it taking pieces of me and twisting them. And I think the worst of it is that part of me wants to let it," she said in a whisper, like a confession.

He kissed her cheek, stroking at her hair and doing his best to reassure her that what she was feeling was nothing to be ashamed of. "I know the temptation, darling. I know it well. It seems so easy to just push all the pain away, but believe me, it's not. It will come back. The Dark One lies, Emma. Everything it tells you is a lie," he stated firmly.

She nodded against his neck, and he could feel her lips moving on his shoulder. "I know. But it's so strong and it knows all my weaknesses. Every single one."

He pulled up, forcing her to look at him again. "Emma, you are stronger. You are amazing and brave. You can beat this."

He saw her wanting to argue, wanting to deny it, but in the end, she accepted the strength of his conviction. He sighed out his relief into the silky strands of her hair. He knew she was losing hope, knew she was growing tired of the fight, but he wasn't about to let her give up. Not now. Not when they were so close. He just had to remind her of what she was fighting for. He had to give her something to hold onto.

Knowing they both needed to find release after the emotional weight that had been chaining them down, he continued to rock gently into her, taking his time to build up their desire again. It didn't take long before all their love and desperation came pounding back and their physical connection was singing with their own special magic. He could feel her body respond perfectly in tune with his, and despite his desire to make this connection last forever, he knew they were both rocketing towards their peak. When at last it hit, the force of it nearly took him by surprise. He cried out her name into the night, as she screamed his into his shoulder. In that moment, he felt unmade, and it was only by her touch that he found himself again.

Though he was thoroughly spent and sated, he was not yet ready to let her go. Rolling to her side, he pulled her into his chest so that she could find rest in his arms. He had hoped their lovemaking would be enough to keep the shadows from creeping back, but he was wrong. Too soon, the dread returned, and with it, the knowledge that this peaceful bliss couldn't last forever.

"It wants you, Killian," she said sadly. "I don't know why, exactly, but I sense that it wants to make you dark again. It's like the Dark One took all my deepest, darkest desires and twisted them into this horrible reality." She sat up, propped on her elbows to look at him, and he could see the terror in her eyes. Not just for him, but for everyone she cared about. "You have to be careful, Killian. You can't let anyone I love or who loves me get near me. It-she-has a way of corrupting that love. You have to promise me to keep Henry far away from me, no matter what."

It was an easy promise to make, but one he made with all his heart. "Aye, love. I will keep him safe with my dying breath." He kissed her again, sealing the pact between them, but could sense she was worried still. He grabbed her hand and laced her fingers through his. "Don't give up yet, Emma darling. Henry and I are close to finding Merlin. I swear to you, we will defeat this."

Her eyes watered, but the hope he had seen there was dimmed and dying. He knew, though, that if he kept reminding her of all that she had to stay strong for, though, she would find it again. She just needed time.

Time they no longer had.

Suddenly, she gasped, and squeezed his hand painfully. "Killian, something's wrong. I can feel the darkness coming back. I feel like I'm losing myself." As he watched, he could see something that looked like black shadows drifting across her skin. It moved and slithered around her body, growing more solid with each second. He desperately wished there was a way to fight this, but how do fight shadows and magic?

"What do you need, Emma? What can I do?" He asked in desperation.

She latched her arms around his body, holding on for dear life, while the thin black tendrils raced around her naked body. "Just don't let go. Please. Hold on to me."

He held her tightly, as tightly as he dared without risk of hurting her. If he could, he would wrap his entire being around her and shield her from this terrible burden, even if it meant taking it upon himself. "Emma. I will never let you go," he promised fervently.

Their embrace was crushing, but worse, he could feel her changing as the darkness took hold. The warm, soft woman was slipping through his fingers and becoming something cold and hard. His heart raced with the thought that he was about to lose her all over again. He didn't know if he could bear it.

"Killian," she begged, looking at him with eyes brimming with tears, even as they were swallowed up by the blackness. "I… I love you."

It was like a horrible repeat of that cursed day. He wasn't strong enough to stop the darkness then, and wasn't strong enough now. How could fate be so cruel as to rip her away from him not once, but multiple times? But for now, she was still here, with him. Still Emma, and she needed to know that he would always fight for her. That he would always see the real her no matter what. Heart aching, he did his best to soothe her fears and remind her of their love in the last few moments they had together. This time, he refused to let her go back to the darkness without knowing she was so very loved.

"Emma, love, it's alright. I've got you, I've still got you," he vowed.

He refused to make this a goodbye.

The ink black tendrils were gone now, but the lingering presence of darkness still remained. Her skin was so pale, he could see it sparkling in the moonlight. His hand and hook turned cold as marble as they clutched at her side. "Emma?" He asked, but her eyes had shut and she had gone silent.

He reached up to stroke her cheek, to brush back the silvery hair that lay across her cheeks, but the movement must have startled her and her eyes flew open. In that moment, he knew he no longer held his love in his arms, but the Dark One. She smiled wickedly up at him. It took every ounce of strength in him not to pull away, but he had made Emma a promise and he refused to let her go, even if this was what she was now.

"Hello, Hook," she teased, her voice sounding more like a hiss than a caress. "My, my. Aren't we clingy?"

It set a fire in his bones that turned his body to ash to hear her speak that way. He tried not to let this moment taint the memory of what they had shared tonight. Tried to ignore the fact that they were still skin-to-skin with no barriers between them. Tried to ignore the fact that his body still wanted hers, even if his heart and mind screamed against it. "Emma. Fight this. I know you can fight this," he growled.

She shook back her hair, the touch of it felt like nettles stinging his hands. All of his instincts told him to get away, but he couldn't. He had promised Emma. So he held tighter, even as she laughed at him. "Why would I want to fight this when I have everything I want? Come on, Hook. Tell me, what's so bad about being the Dark One?"

Knowing it would demonstrate a weakness, but unable to stop himself, he closed his eyes. He simply couldn't bear to look into her eyes and not see the woman he loved reflected back. Instead, he tried to find her in other ways, ignoring the taunting tone of her voice and searching for any small bit of the real person underneath. "This isn't you, Emma. You are not evil."

She stroked his cheek with one sharp nail. It felt as though she cut him open with a knife. He half expected to see his blood on her fingertips as he forced himself to look upon her again. As he met her gaze, she seemed to soften, her voice warmer, the eyes less sharp, and her touch turning into a caress. "Who says the Dark One is evil? What have I done that is so terrible? I'm merely offering everyone a chance at true peace. To truly be part of a family. Why do you think I'm evil?"

"Emma?" He asked, searching her blackened eyes for any sign that this was a trick, trying not to hope too much that she was coming back. _Please,_ he begged, _please come back._

"Hook?" She replied with a smile was so delicate and real it made his heart clench painfully. _Maybe it was working,_ he thought. _How could the Dark One fake that smile, how could it fake love?_

Her hands drifted back through the short hairs at the back of his neck, and down over his shoulders. But he knew something was wrong. What she was saying wasn't Emma, it was the darkness talking. And there was something flashing in his eyes that told him this all might be some sort of ruse. "I want you to be with me," she told him, "I want you to be a part of this. Out of everyone, I thought you would understand the most."

He tried to block out the effect she was having on him, the way her heat and her tender touches were affecting him, but how could he? No matter what, this was still Emma, and she was naked and in his arms. But he knew the Dark One better than almost anyone. He knew the games, the way it preyed upon your desires and fears. So with supreme effort, he shook off the haze of lust and replied in a curt voice, "Oh, I do understand. I understand what you want won't work. Forcing people to love you is wrong and you know it."

She tilted her head, licking her lips like she wanted to kiss him. Or devour him. "I'm not forcing you. I don't have to. I know how you feel about me." She paused, her lips forming into a pout. "Or do you not feel the same way about me now that I'm the Dark One."

The uncertainty in her voice was real enough, even if her actions and words rang hollow. Those were Emma's real fears coming out. What could he do? He knew it was some sort of trap, but Emma needed him. She needed to know how he felt.

He placed his forehead against hers, trying to look past the darkness in her eyes, to find the woman he loved inside. Maybe it was only a trick of the light, but for an instant, he thought there was a glimmer of green peaking through. That was enough, and it was all he needed to fill his heart with hope. "You know that I will never stop loving you."

"Then say it, Hook," One hand going back to anchor in his hair and keep their faces pressed together, while the others still worked over his body, leaving a fire in its wake. Her voice took on the seductive purr he was familiar with when she was trying to tease him. "Tell me how much you love me. I know you know how to use that talented tongue of yours." Her hand swirled through his chest hair, coming to rest over his heart.

This was his chance. His chance to remind her of who she was and what she meant to him. If there was any way to bring her fully back to herself, this was the moment. He took a breath and poured his love into his words. "Emma. Since the day I met you, there has not been a day gone by that I haven't thought of you. You are everything to me. My home and my family. I love you with all my heart, and I will never stop loving you." As he finished, he crushed his lips down upon hers, praying that this would work.

At first, nothing happened. He continued to kiss her, barely pausing to breathe, until the doubt started to creep in. If True Love's Kiss was going to work, then surely it would have happened by now, right? Slowly, he opened his eyes to see her smiling triumphantly. "Ah. Perfect," she cooed, her voice dripping with the satisfaction of having played him and won. Before he could make sense of it, a fire bloomed in his chest, right at the spot where her palm still rested over his heart.

The pain ripped through him and he screamed at her to stop, but it was too late, and he saw the dark magic seeping out from her hands and spreading over his body, burrowing under his skin like leaches. It raced through his veins and into his blood, overwhelming his senses. It was like he was suffocating, burning, and freezing all at once.

And then…blackness.

Blackness was all he could see and feel and hear and taste.

It was all he knew…except for the pain. It consumed him until he couldn't even remember his own name. Until his screams were distanct and raw and no longer resembling anything human.

And just when he thought the pain couldn't get any worse, the world exploded in light.

Killian awoke with an unholy scream, body drenched in sweat and tangled in the sheets of his bed. His heartbeat pounded against his chest, while he tried to work out what was going on. Looking around, he saw that he was in his cabin, still dressed, and the sun was shining in through the window. And he was alone.

A dream. It had just been a dream. Some sort of wonderful, terrible nightmare.

He didn't know if that made it better or worse. Chest heaving, he fell back against his pillows and ran his hand down his face. His stomach turned over as his mind still raced through all the very vivid details of what had happened.

Suddenly, there was a pounding at his cabin door, and he could hear Henry's worried voice from the other side. "Killian? Killian are you okay?"

"Aye, lad," he replied, unsurprised by the raw terror in his voice, as he hastily got up to answer the door. "Just a nightmare. Didn't mean to worry you."

When he opened the door, Henry's jaw dropped at the sight of him. He had tried to throw on the easy-going mask he often wore, but he knew he must look wrecked if Henry could see through it so easily. It wasn't hard to guess why, as he could feel the horror of the darkness taking him over still clinging to his body like a film. Was that what Emma felt when she had become the Dark One? He shuddered violently at the thought.

Henry was still staring at him in shock, so he forced himself to forget the thought and adopt some sort of workable smile. "Go on. I'll clean up and meet you on deck in a few minutes."

The boy looked as if he didn't buy that for a moment, but he nodded anyway. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Aye, just a really bad dream. Nothing to worry about," Killian said, feeling the terror slowly leaving him as he focused on Henry. There was some strange sort of excited glimmer in his eyes despite his worry that had him curious.

"Okay, well, you might want to hurry," Henry said.

Killian raised his brow. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Because I think we're here," Henry replied.

"What do you mean?"

Henry studied the door frame. "So, right before you started, um, screaming bloody murder," he said with a little flush coloring his cheeks, "I was watching the sea, and something strange happened. It was like the clouds sort of _parted_ ," he gestured with his hands in a sweeping motion, "and there was this island, right in the middle, big as life. You really need to come see it."

Killian nodded eagerly. Unfortunately, his clothes were still clinging to his body and if there really was something to be seen, then he would need to be ready to face it. That meant getting that dream out of his head. "Aye, I'll be there in a tick."

Henry grinned and rushed back up the stairs, leaving him alone in his cabin and with his thoughts.

Emma. The darkness. Gods, did that really happen? How could it have? But every second had felt so real. The way he felt as they joined together, the way their hearts connected. The love they shared. The pain after.

He shivered, knowing that to dwell on it would drive him insane, and focused on cleaning himself up and preparing for the unknown.

He rushed to get ready, shucking his sweat soaked clothing and throwing on a clean shirt, pants, and vest before grabbing his jacket. He was still fastening his brace to his arm as he came up on deck and looked around.

Just off the starboard bow lay an island; large and impossibly close. It was bordered by a beach made of pure white sand. Farther back was a dense, lush forest that already set his teeth on edge at the sight of it with too many foul memories of Neverland's dark jungles. At the center, encircled by rings of white clouds, was a steep, rocky mountain. Henry was right. It fit the description of Avalon perfectly.

"Do you think that's it?" Henry asked nervously, bouncing on his heels.

Killian sighed, but could feel that now familiar twinge of hope blooming once more. "Aye, lad. I believe so."

"Do you think Merlin's really there?"

He set his jaw, praying that their journey was finally over and that no more surprises were waiting for them on that island. He knew it was a fool's hope, and he knew it would only hurt all the more once everything went south, but after everything, after that dream, he needed it. He told Emma to hold on, to keep fighting, but he needed to remind himself to do the same.

 _We're coming Emma._

"Only one way to find out, I suppose," Killian said. He picked up the cloth bag he had used to stash the weapons in earlier and found a similar one for Henry to carry. "Gather your cutlass and some provisions. I have a feeling with this wind, we'll be ready to weigh anchor within the hour."

Henry beamed, his grin going ear-to-ear. "I think you were right, Killian. About trusting in fate and having hope. I think we're going to save my mom."

Killian swallowed hard, as he nodded dumbly. Fate. Yesterday, he had been so sure about fate leading them. Now, with that dream still so fresh and vivid, he hoped that fate had nothing to do with this quest. He hoped that it was nothing more than an active imagination and his desperation to see Emma again.

The alternative was far too horrible to consider.

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 **Reviews?**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N—Aaaannnnddd I'm back. SOOO sorry this took so long. Again, I hope the length of this chapter makes up for your wait. For all of you who have been patiently waiting for this, I cannot tell you what your support and encouragement means. Truly, you are all amazing.**

 **-All I'm going to say about this was it was a BITCH to write. So much needed to happen, and getting everything right was a monumental task. So, I really hope you like it.**

 **-This chapter mostly focuses on Regina and Emma, though there is a moment or two of Charming and Belle.**

 **-I really loved moments in this chapter, and despite the lack of CS, I felt it was one of the better things I've written. I hope you feel the same. I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

 **PREPARE YOURSELF, DARK SWAN IS COMING.**

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 _Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death._

~Anaïs Nin

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 **Chapter 10: Stages of Life—Adolescence**

The forest was eerily silent as the soldiers marched away, so much so that David quickly noticed the change in his wife's breathing. They dodged through the trees as quickly as they dared, hoping to keep the soldiers in their sight, even though they both feared they already knew their destination. From this distance, all he could make out was that Regina was slumped over the shoulder of a grey-clad man and seemed to be unconscious.

Snow's breathing hitched again as they rounded a small patch of evergreen bushes, and David flinched. Turning back to look at his wife, he saw the tell-tale look of guilt and worry in her eyes. "Snow…" he warned, slowing down so that he could address her feelings before they headed even farther into a dangerous situation. "We're going to get her back."

"Are we, David?" Snow responded tersely, with an eye-roll he was sure rivaled her daughter's. He could see clearly now just how red her eyes were and how hard she was struggling not to break, despite the grizzled visage of her disguise. His heart tightened in his chest, wishing for a way to ease her pain. "We just keep losing them."

"Regina will be fine," he answered, knowing that it really wasn't _Regina_ Snow was so concerned about. "She can handle herself." He shuddered at the memory of Regina burning that old woman to a crisp and suddenly this whole rescue mission seemed like a bad idea. Heading into the heart of the Dark One's lair to rescue a woman who had the potential to be just as evil seemed to be tempting fate a bit too much.

"I know that, but I can't help but feel that she wouldn't have been in danger if I had listened to Gold and stayed home," Snow admitted reluctantly.

"Maybe," he agreed. Snow shot him a glare, and he quickly added, "But coming here was the right thing to do regardless. Emma needs to know that we are here for her this time."

"I know, David. I know." She struggled to regain her composure, taking his hand in her own and linking their fingers together as they began tracking Regina's captors once more. "What do you think will happen to her?" She asked, quickening her steps so that she was walking more in stride with him.

He looked out into the forest, noticing the guard detail was nearing the edge of the forest and that there was no question that they were heading in the direction of the Dark One's castle. He wondered why they had immediately gone for Regina. When she had used her magic, they had appeared almost on cue, like they were just waiting around for it. Could the Dark One have already known they were here? Had she been tracking them? Was this all a trap?

David shook away the thought. It wouldn't do to start worrying about that now. They would just have to continue on and take all the precautions they could, and have hope that they would prevail. Hope that his wife desperately needed to find.

"Snow, it doesn't matter. We're going to get her out of there before anything happens," he replied.

"How?"

"We use the mirror to contact Gold. Surely he knows a secret tunnel or two into his castle."

"Okay. That's a good idea," she said, taking a deep breath. He noticed how she steadied herself and refocused her thoughts back on the mission instead of their losses. It made him smile, that despite their hideous disguises, he could still see the beauty inside of her. Before he could stop himself, he reached up and stroked her cheek. How had he ever been so lucky to find someone like her?

She looked up at him in confusion that quickly gave way to understanding as she met his soft gaze. She smiled genuinely (crooked teeth aside), lacing their fingers together, as they both just took a minute to silently reaffirm that they were still in this together, come what may.

Tearing away, Snow reached down into the satchel and removed the enchanted mirror. Swirling her hand over the top, she called Belle's name. Immediately, the image shimmered to reveal the wide-eyed worried face of the librarian.

"Mary Margaret? David? Is that you? I keep forgetting you're incognito," Belle said. She looked tired, but otherwise upbeat. Hopefully that meant that everything was going well in Storybrooke.

Snow nodded. "Yeah. Look, is Gold awake yet?"

"Yes, he is." Belle frowned, looking between the two of them with worry. "Is something wrong?"

Snow's eyes darted up to his and then back to the glass. "Regina was captured," she admitted softly. "We need to talk to Gold."

David couldn't help but see the flash of alarm in Belle's eyes. "Um, sure. Let me just…" she said, and there was some shuffling around before the image in the mirror shifted. Suddenly, they were looking at Gold's face instead of the librarian's.

He glared back at them, stronger and more aware then they had yet seen him. With the glare he was giving them, he looked almost like his old self again. "I must say, I never would have thought the beauty routine in the Enchanted Forest would have changed so much," he sniggered.

Angrily, David grabbed at the mirror, refocusing it on himself. "Now is not the time for your comments, Gold. We need your help. Regina's been captured and taken to _your_ old castle. We need a way to sneak in without being seen."

"Well, dearie. Glad to see things still haven't changed," he sneered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" David growled.

He rolled his eyes, looking bored. "It's the same old song and dance, where I give you my advice, you don't listen, then you end up in trouble and want me to get you out of it," he retorted.

In the background, he heard Belle chastising her ex-husband and, shockingly, he didn't even try to hide the grimace on his face. If David didn't know better, he would have sworn the man looked guilty for his sarcastic attitude. Perhaps he was really trying to change after all.

Apparently, it was enough for him to apologize though. Instead, Gold's jaw clenched, as his wary eyes returned back to the prince's. "There is a way into the castle, if you can find it."

"Tell us," Snow demanded, stepping in close, her demeanor shifting back to the determined young thief that he had fallen in love with all those years ago. David smiled warmly at his wife and wrapped his arm around her. For the first time since Emma's sacrifice, his heart felt light.

As long as they were together, he knew everything would be alright.

…

Regina awoke to the sound of laughter. Someone was having themselves a good chuckle far too close to her for her liking. As she opened her eyes, shaking off the last traces of the poppy powder the guards had used to knock her out with, she found herself (unsurprisingly) in the Dark One's dungeon. Her mouth was dry, her head ached horribly, there was nothing to sit on except some straw, and something down here smelled like it had died recently. Overall, it was a new, and decidedly unpleasant experience to be on this side of the bars. But right now, there were more important things to focus on—like that really annoying laughter.

"Oh, will you please shut the hell up? Nothing can be _that_ funny," she snapped, rubbing at her temples and trying to not breathe in the stench. It was taking all her willpower to go against her ingrained haughtiness in order to not blow her cover. If she remained in her disguise, there was still a chance she might be able to talk herself out of this situation.

Maybe. If only that person would stop _fucking laughing._

Regina looked up, ready to bite off the head of the offending party, and saw her own face staring down at her. Well, not her face exactly. The Evil Queen. Dressed to the nines in a sparkling black gown, her corseted breasts shoved up high and her hair twisted up in a complicated coif that made Regina seriously wonder what on earth she had been thinking when she wore that. She was even sporting her trademark sneer. It was disconcerting to say the least.

The Evil Queen gave her an appraising look and started laughing again. It was then that Regina finally looked down and noticed what _she_ was wearing. It was her Storybrooke clothes (pantsuit, heels, and all) and not the corset and skirt of a simple peasant girl that had been her disguised persona. As it dawned on her what must have happened, the first prickles of real fear formed at the base of her spine, but now was not the time to show weakness.

"Oh, I beg to differ, Regina. I'm pretty sure the sight of you locked up down here is just about the funniest thing on the planet." The Evil Queen tittered. "Seriously?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated manner that was most definitely not her own. "You hoped that a cloaking spell would fool me?"

Regina longed to wipe that haughty look right off of the Evil Queen's face (the irony of that thought was not lost on her, nor was the fact that she was currently finding herself to be the most irritating person she had ever met) "Dark One," Regina surmised. "Tired of your new look so soon? I always knew you were jealous of my cleavage."

The other version of herself looked down and cupped her breasts, tilting her head to get a better look at them. "They are very nice, but no. This was just a little joke that I thought you might find it funny." She waved her hand and a pillar of black smoke swirled around her changing her back into Emma, complete with tight black leather pants and some sort of Vogue-inspired crocodile skin jacket. She looked like some sort of runway-model-turned-jewel-thief and Regina couldn't help but tell her so in the snarkiest way possible.

"This is how you use your powers? To play dress-up? What a waste." Goading the Dark One was always a bad idea, but Regina was far past the point of caring. She was cold, thirsty, and really _not_ in the mood.

The Dark One, simply shrugged and stepped closer to the bars of Regina's cell. "Hmm, maybe I'll show you just what I'm capable of. Later. For now, let's talk about you," she said, changing her tone to a fake sort of uber-niceness. "Bit far from home, aren't you? Weren't you happy with your happy ending? Did you come seeking my help? You know, I'm not really in the business of making deals. That's was more Rumple's thing. I'm not really all that interested."

Regina couldn't help but wince. While the words and tone were pure Dark One, the sentiment seemed more like Emma. What did that mean? Had she given in to the darkness? Was this still the Dark One in Emma's body speaking for her? She had a feeling that the distinction was crucial, as Emma might have qualms about killing her, but the Dark One certainly would not.

Unfortunately, there was only one way she could think of to find out.

 _Dammit, this was going to hurt_ , Regina thought.

" _Please_. Like I would ever need your help sorting through my love life. How long did it take you to tell Hook you loved him? You strung that poor puppy-pirate along for years. All because you were 'too scared'. Like I said, _pathetic_." She carefully watched Emma's eyes for any reaction to her taunts. Because if there was anything that would infuriate the real Emma faster, it was poking into her love life.

Unfortunately, the other woman remained stoic, which oddly enough, gave Regina hope that Emma hadn't yet given in all the way to the darkness. The part of her that was wracked with guilt over Emma's sacrifice rejoiced at the news. Still, that meant the Dark One was in control and the whole situation was beyond dangerous.

"And how long did it take you to admit it, Your Majesty?" She teased.

Regina crossed her arms, shaking her head. "At least I didn't go around pining for the man all over the place and then deny it to everyone. It was always clear how I felt about Robin, even if we couldn't be together."

The Dark One shrugged, leaning back against the far wall of the cavern-like dungeon. "If you say so. Speaking of…I highly doubt that you came here alone. Did your _one true love_ join you on your journey?"

Sensing a trap, Regina drew her lips into a tight line and turned her head away. It wouldn't do to lose her composure now. The Dark One was fishing and she was not about to take the bait.

She sighed, as her lip curled up into a smile, stepping off from the wall and coming closer to the cell's bars. "No, I don't think he did. You would have wanted someone you trust looking after your sister back home. Although, I'm shocked you still trust him with your sister, especially now. Wouldn't it be funny if Robin actually started having feelings for Zelena? I mean, they do share a kid, or they will soon enough. It wouldn't be that strange. Maybe he'll remember the way she felt when he was making love to her. Maybe he's thinking of her when he's with you. Maybe…"

"Shut up!" Regina snarled, instantly regretting it.

The Dark One merely smiled bigger and threw her hands up in mock defeat, backing away once more. "Touchy today, aren't we?"

"What do you want?" Regina asked, lying against the stone wall, using the damp coldness to tamp down the fire in her veins.

The Dark One shrugged, the smile never wavering, but never touching her eyes either. "To have some fun. Are you having fun, yet? I sure am. Why don't you tell me who else came with you so I can invite them along to the party?"

"What makes you think I came here with someone else? Don't you know that I work better alone?"

Emma leaned forward, her hands curled around the bars, "And don't you know I have a thing about lies?"

Regina rolled her eyes. " _Oh please,_ that superpower of yours won't work on me. I'm the Evil Queen. I'm smarter than that."

"Are you challenging me?" The Dark One asked, this time with true mirth in her smile. Her eyes glittered a menacing shade of puce in the flickering light of the oil torches lining the walls. "I'm game. How but a round of Twenty Questions?"

Regina crossed her arms again and remained resolutely silent.

Twirling her fingers around the bar tighter, the Dark One pouted. "Ten?"

Regina turned to the wall.

She heard the woman give a mock sigh. "Geesh, you drive a hard bargain. Five it is then. I'll ask just five questions and I can promise you by the end, you'll have told me everything I want to know."

Sensing a way to spin this to her advantage (and avoid possible death), Regina asked, "And what about me? What do I get if I play along?" Despite what she said earlier, Regina knew that if she could strike a bargain with the Dark One, she would have to uphold it. But she would have to be extremely careful about everything she said or didn't say from now on.

The Dark One's eyes darkened fractionally, as the smile turned more calculating. "Very well. Play along and I'll grant you your freedom. That's what you're wanting, isn't it? Once I get what I want, I have no need to keep you here. Besides, I wasn't really going to give you a choice."

Regina clenched her fingers together into a fist, the nails biting into her palm. _What had she gotten herself into?_ "You know I will never tell you anything."

Looking pleased by her defiance, the Dark One stepped back pacing around the torch-lit cavern, still twirling the magical necklace in her hands. "You don't need to, that's why I'm _guessing_ , or did you miss that part? Shall I demonstrate?" She raised her eyebrow and tucked her hands inside her alligator-skin jacket. "You can consider this question number one. Who came here with you?"

"I won't—" Regina began.

She was cut off immediately by a wave of Emma's hand. "Uh uh. Don't answer that. You'll take the fun out of guessing." Looking like a clichéd version of some sort of hard-nosed police detective, the Dark One stalked back and forth in front of Regina's cell, a deep furrow on her brow. "Now, let's see...I'm assuming you didn't come here to stop me, as you didn't arrive with an army brandishing my dagger, and you came in disguise, so my guess is that you were here simply to spy on me, to try to figure out what I'm up to." She looked up, no doubt trying to discern the truth in Regina's eyes.

Regina very carefully schooled her face into an unreadable mask. It didn't seem to bother the Dark One, though, and she continued on with her interrogation. "It's an interesting tactic, but as we both know portal jumps aren't easy. I'm afraid you've wasted the trip."

Becoming irritated and knowing that she need to distract her from getting too close to the truth, Regina snapped, "Are you just going to keep talking, or is this leading somewhere important?"

The Dark One stopped pacing and huffed, appearing far more like the old Emma than Regina had been expecting. For a moment, it threw her off her game and she almost forgot that she was dealing with the Dark One. "God you're impatient. _Yes_ , I will get there eventually," she even rolled her eyes at Regina the same way Emma did. That wasn't good. It could only mean the melding of the two of them was a lot farther along than she had previously thought.

Guilt hit her hard again. Guilt and an overwhelming sadness. What if Henry found Merlin only to have Emma be completely consumed by the darkness? What if they were too late to bring her back? Henry would be devastated. Hell, she would be devastated.

Regina shook her fears off. It wouldn't do her any good to get distracted right now, and there were far too many dangers to allow herself to go down the never ending path of 'what if's'. The only thing she could do was to keep playing this game to find out exactly what the Dark One was up to. And she needed to show Emma that she had a reason to keep fighting without giving anything away.

The Dark One was still speaking. "I thought you'd like to hear what a villain's monologue sounds like from the other end, but if you really want me to shut up, we can skip right to the end."

"Talking's overrated," Regina added halfheartedly.

The other woman shrugged and opted for a more direct route. "Fine. Where are my parents?"

Regina quickly hid away her shock. How the hell did she guess that her parents were here? "Is that question number two?"

The Dark One leaned forward, shoulders against the metal bars, a hungry glee in her eyes. Regina knew that look meant that somehow she had just confirmed the truth to her. "Yes. I know they're here with you, as you wouldn't be here otherwise. Let me guess, they talked you into it because you felt guilty about what happened to me?"

 _Fine_ , Regina thought bitterly. _She wanted to play? Then, let's play._ "That's question three."

Unfazed, the Dark One took both bars in her hands, her fingers slowly spidering around them, and said in a tone that seemed different than before. It was softer, but with a far more menacing undercurrent. "And here's question four-If you are here with _them_ , that means that Hook and Henry stayed behind in Storybrooke, and somehow, I doubt that. It just doesn't seem like them at all to want to be left behind on such an important mission. I know how desperately they must miss me."

Regina couldn't help the little flinch. The Dark One was far too good at knowing Regina's weak points.

"So my money's on them not being there when you left." Emma/The Dark One (it was getting harder to tell the difference, Regina realized) concluded. She stopped, no doubt reading the truth in Regina's non-answer. "Let me guess, they went off searching for Merlin. They think they are going to find a way to 'save' me from this 'curse'."

Regina noticed that her breathlessness belied her desperation at the answer to the question. She wondered why that was. Why was the Dark One so concerned about where Henry and her pirate lover were? Did she truly fear that they might succeed, or was it Emma's real concern for her loved ones? Either way, it meant the darkness wasn't as powerful as it wanted her to believe. And that gave Regina all the hope she needed.

"Am I correct?" The Dark One demanded.

Regina sat up, leaning forward with a knowing smirk on her face. "One question left."

The other woman stepped back, still holding the bars, her head tilting back and forth like a dog trying to understand its master. "Yes. The most important question." Her smile grew, turning into something that seemed almost…sultry? "Regina, I know our history has been anything but conventional, but surely you must have felt it, this connection we have."

Confusion hit her hard, and Regina frowned deeply. _What the hell?_ Why did it seem like she was trying to come on to her? "I have no idea what you are talking about, but if you are implying what I think you're implying, then…"

Suddenly, the metal bars keeping her in this cage flickered away in a small shower of diamond sparks, as Emma stalked forward. Regina was far to stunned to even move away, as the other woman dipped down, perching effortlessly on her sky-high heels, as the Dark One's presence invaded her senses. Against her will, Regina's blood began to pulse erratically, as she felt completely immobilized under Emma's intense stare.

No, what she felt was different…it wasn't a feeling of being trapped, it was more like she felt intensely drawn to Emma like she had never had before. There was something about the nearness of her, something about the intoxicatingly sweet scent coming from her that made Regina feel as if the magic in her veins was propelling her forwards, like it wished to reach out and join with the magic swirling through Emma. It made her feel dizzy and flushed and… _needy_.

Emma reached down, softly twirling her fingers into Regina's hair, the closeness of her sending another cascade of sparks through her body. She fluttered her eyes, voice dropping into something soft and unsure. "Do you…do you think it's possible that you could ever have feelings for me, Regina? That you could care about me in the same way I care about you?"

Regina shuddered. What was even happening right now? Everything in her wanted to run, and yet everything in her wanted to get closer, the conflicting desires leaving her both hot and cold. "What?" Regina gasped, pushing back into the wall, nails scraping along the stones as if they could keep her routed in reality.

Not letting up, Emma kept getting closer as her fingers left her hair and slowly trailed down her collarbone, their coldness leaving a trail of icy fire in their wake. Regina couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes, as her body and her magic began to respond to her touch. Her resolve was rapidly leaving and all she could think about was how _red_ were Emma's lips and how _green_ were her eyes.

Leaning in so close that her breath ghosted over her skin, Emma licked her lips, as Regina felt her own mouth go dry. "Come on, Regina," she taunted. "I know you had to have thought about us. _Together_. I mean, imagine it! The power we could possess. How the people would fear us! We could rule the realms."

And it was intoxicating, those words and the hum and tingle of dark magic once more seeping under her skin. For a second, she was tempted to give in, to just take what she wanted, to feel the thrill of evil again.

Then, a vision of Henry appeared to her suddenly, his voice pleading with her to stay good. And somehow, Regina found her strength and fought her way back. "You…you're delusional," she panted, focusing hard on anything that could ground her and break her from this spell. Henry. Robin. Roland. It took a supreme effort, and the force of all her love, but she could feel the Dark One's hold on her beginning to crumble.

Then, in a bare whisper, Emma traced her fingers softly over the swell of her breasts and asked, "Don't you love me?"

"No! Of course I don't love you. And I never will," Regina spat, the spell (or whatever that was) completely broken. She tried to shove Emma's hands away, but was met with the sheer immovable strength of the Dark One.

Undaunted, Emma peered down at her. Still hovering her hand above Regina's chest, she pouted in disappointment, but there was no real surprise in her eyes. "I had a feeling that would be your answer. Oh well, guess I'll have to do this the hard way."

Without warning, there was a sharp, uncomfortable pain in her chest as Emma's hand entered her and gripped her heart tightly. She looked up at Regina with a curious smile and ice in her eyes.

Not to be intimidated, Regina smirked back, slightly breathless from the pain _,_ but feeling oddly triumphant. "Ha, you can't take my heart! I learned my lesson well after my sister's schemes. It's protected so that no one can remove it but me."

Emma didn't even bother trying to tug, she simply removed her hand from the inside of her chest, like she hadn't really expected it to work in the first place. She merely smiled coldly, and suddenly Regina's moment of victory felt chillingly premature. "I don't need to remove your heart to take it," she declared ominously.

A cold tendril of something flitted across her chest, and Regina looked down quickly, almost afraid of what she might see. For a second, she thought she saw the trace of some sort of black magic, like a small ribbon of ink disappearing into her skin, but then she blinked and it was gone. She didn't feel different, didn't feel _dark_ , but she couldn't stop the unsettling feeling that something had been done to her.

Before she could question it, though, Emma lifted the necklace she had apparently been keeping twined around her hand. The necklace that Regina had completely forgotten about and hadn't noticed its absence until now. "But first, there is something else I need."

"What are you going to do with that?"

Emma's gaze shifted to the glowing pink stone as it dangled from her fingertips. "You really should be more careful with your things, Regina. Didn't Rumple ever warn you that magical items can work both ways?"

"Why do you need that for? It's only use is for cloaking spells, and I thought as the 'almighty Dark One', changing your appearance should be child's play," Regina scoffed.

Emma looked back at her, that curious smirk lifting her lips. "It's not for a cloaking spell. It's for a transference spell." She held the necklace in front of her so that it caught the light, staring at the glowing center as she spoke. "Did you know, that when you keep a magical item on your person for an extended period of time, a part of your essence transfers into it? Granted, it's not much. You must not have worn it long. But I think there is probably enough of a link."

 _Yet another bit of vital information Rumple left out of her teaching,_ Regina groaned inwardly. _Thank you so very much, you self-serving bastard._ "Transference spell?" She asked lamely, a tinge of worry seeping into her words and thoughts. The only thing transference spells she knew about were only used for one purpose…. _to take someone's magic._

 _Well. Fuck._

"Yes, that's what I said," Emma snarked, as if all this was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm going to transfer your magic into this stone. All of your magic. With it, I'll have just about everything I need to open a portal to back to Storybrooke. And this time, it'll be stable enough so that my new family will be able to cross over with me. See, they were all a bit pissed at being left after the last two curses, and all I had to do was offer them a chance at a reunion and _voila!" S_ he said as she flourished her hand in the air, "They were mine."

Regina rolled her eyes. "You mean they became your mindless zombies after you manipulated them and somehow imbued them with dark magic? You know, those tricks might work on those desperate souls here, but I doubt the people in Storybrooke will fall for it so easily. And just how do you expect to even get there? It's not like you can open a portal with just my magic or I would have done it years ago. Why are you so interested in Storybrooke anyway?"

Emma chuckled and shook her head. "Whoa, Regina! And I thought I was the one asking the questions! Fine, you want to hear my evil plan, I'll tell you. It's not like it'll make a difference." She stood up, backing away towards the open doorway she had created. "Portals aren't as difficult as you might think. How do you think I got here? I have both the strongest dark magic and the strongest light magic in my veins. Combine the two magics" she clapped her hands together with a loud smack "and portals are a piece of cake. And as far as Storybrooke goes, I want the same thing with them as I want with every realm. Storybrooke is just the first stop on the journey because there's a few things I need to pick up."

"You mean your dagger," Regina surmised.

Emma turned to look back and nodded, an oddly triumphant smirk on her lips. "Well that… _and my son_."

The full weight of terror that Regina had pushed away suddenly rained down upon her at those words. Terror and anger. "NO! You leave Henry out of this!"

 _No one, Dark One or not, would take Henry from her_ , Regina vowed.

Emma merely smiled wider, as if she found Regina's threats amusing and empty. "Why should I? He's my son, not yours. Not anymore. I'm taking him with me. I have great plans for his future."

"You aren't going to do so much as lay a finger on Henry," Regina seethed, rage pouring from every pore as she stood up to face the Dark One. "Even if I have to kill you with that dagger myself, I will find a way to stop you. And he'll never go with you, anyway. Storybrooke is his home."

"Come on, Regina," The Dark One scoffed. Regina refused to believe this was Emma talking now. She didn't know much, but she knew there was _no way_ Emma could be behind this. She wouldn't want to take Henry away from everyone he loved. But that little voice in the back of her head whispered " _Remember New York? She's tried it before."_

"Storybrooke was never going to be Henry's true home," the Dark One continued. "He's far too important. He's the Author now. All he needs is a little tutelage and imagine what he is capable of! He's always wanted to be a prince and he's always wanted to have magic. I'll give him everything he desires and more."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "And what does 'The Dark One' get in return, huh? An author who can change anyone's story? Another pawn in your quest for power? Don't you _dare_ try to pretend you are doing this for him!"

The Dark One waved a hand in annoyance. "You will come around someday. Maybe I'll even let you live long enough to see it, to see just what _my_ son can do with a little nudge in the right direction."

"Never!" Regina hissed, clenching her fists and feeling her magic gather within her. The urge to throw a fireball had never been stronger. "I will never allow you to taint my son with darkness!"

"HE IS _MY_ SON!" Emma shouted, the walls of the cavern shaking like an earthquake, sending showers of stones down upon them. Regina covered her head with her hands as the rocks fell.

Then without warning, Emma flicked her hand, sending a wave of dark magic slamming into Regina, forcing her to her knees. She cried out, as she felt it reaching inside her, pulling out her magic, taking it by force. It felt like her body was being torn in two, like she was being ripped apart at the seams. Wave after wave of her magic left her and fed into the stone of the necklace, lighting it up like a Christmas tree.

"Emma, fight this!" She cried, but the wicked gleam in her eye told her that Emma most definitely not listening.

When it was over, Regina collapsed to the straw-covered floor, feeling more tired and drained than she had ever felt in her life. But mostly, without her magic, she felt as if a huge part of herself was simply absent, like there was a hole in the middle of her body.

The Dark One pocketed the necklace, turning to leave. "Thanks for your help, Regina. I'll be sure to send Henry your regards." As the Dark One walked out, she waved her hand and the bars reassembled themselves from the diamond dust scattered around on the floor.

Regina barely noticed. She felt hollow. Worse, she felt _weak_. _Pathetic. Hopeless_. Even that boiling rage that had sustained her for so long felt like a distant echo. What was she without her magic? She was nothing. For the first time in forever, Regina felt her carefully controlled composure slipping.

"Emma, please," she begged, unable to care how desperate she sounded.

Without even so much as a glance back, the Dark One turned and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Regina strained to sit up, to find the will to fight, to go after her magic and save Henry. But she couldn't muster the strength to do so much as crawl towards the bars.

 _Weak._

 _Helpless._

 _Worthless._

Having nothing left, Regina fell back onto the floor and let the tears fall.

…

Back in her quarters, the Dark One slipped the necklace on and waved her hand down over her body, her clothes shimmering and changing with magic. Slipping her hand in the pocket of the now purple blazer, she withdrew the other object she had obtained and nestled it to her chest, smiling.

It had been ridiculously easy to fool Regina. Once the so-called 'Evil Queen' ( _what did that woman know of true evil?_ ) had exposed herself by using her magic, it was a simple matter of tracking her down and getting her servants to collect her. And _oh what presents_ she had brought with her! Not only the wonderful magic-stealing necklace, but a mirror that could communicate with the rest of their pitiful band of heroes.

And the best gifts were yet to come.

With the small sliver of black magic now firmly lodged in Regina's heart, the Dark One finally had the spy she needed. True, Regina wasn't under her complete control, but that wasn't important. The Dark One had all she needed to influence Regina's words and actions to her advantage. And the best part was that no one, not even Regina, would have any idea.

It was laughable at how easy her victory would be.

The Dark One smirked, catching sight of herself in the full-length mirror, as she adjusted her 'costume'. It was almost time. Just a few more pieces to set into place and then all would be ready for the big reveal.

And when it was over, Emma would fall.

…..

"Belle!"

The dark haired woman hurried towards the sound of someone calling out her name, picking up the magic hand mirror quickly. "I'm here," she answered breathlessly.

Regina's image filled the frame, a look of panic on her face.

"Regina! You're okay? Wait, why aren't you in disguise?" Belle asked as loudly as she dared. Rumple was sleeping fitfully next door and she didn't want to wake him. His nightmares, which had started shortly after he had first awoke after the curse, were getting progressively worse. He still wouldn't tell her about them, but she could guess as to what was haunting his sleep.

"Yes, I've manage to escape, but I have no idea where Snow and Charming are," Regina explained, darting looks over her shoulder.

Belle felt a mix of relief and fear run through her. "Rumple gave them directions to a secret passageway under the Dark One's castle. They are coming to rescue you. Where are you?"

Regina looked back, seemingly satisfied that she was safe, as she continued, "Still in the castle, but hiding. How are things there? Any news from Henry and Hook?"

"Nothing yet," Belle answered apologetically.

Regina was frowning deeply, looking very angry. (Well, angrier than her normal expression.) Belle couldn't help but feel for her though, and she did her best to reassure her that everything was fine. "Give them time, Regina. It's only been a few days."

"I don't like the thought of them off where I can't contact them."

"I know, but we knew that the communicating with them in the Netherworld would be tricky. And Killian will take good care of Henry," Belle added with complete surety. "Everything will be alright. They'll find Merlin and be back soon, I just know it."

A curious look flashed in Regina's eyes, but it was gone before Belle could process it. "I wish I could say the same," she added darkly. "Is everything else alright? Zelena? Robin?"

For some reason, though Belle could tell Regina was concerned, there seemed to be any real depth to her emotions, like she was asking because it was expected and not like she really cared. Belle shrugged it off, thinking it must be the mention of her sister causing the sudden shift in her personality. "All fine. I promise. It's been quiet since you left," Bell assured.

Regina rolled her eyes. "I'll bet. Don't worry, though. As soon as I find Snow and Charming, I'm coming back."

"Any luck finding Emma?"

Regina smiled, her lips curling up slowly as if there was some sort of joke behind it that Belle wasn't privy to. "I'll tell you all about it when I get home."

A small shiver raced down her spine. "Be safe, Regina," Belle stated, still feeling odd about the whole conversation.

"I'll be fine. I always am."

The image went dark and Belle frowned. Something was off but for the life of her, she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud shriek from the other room.

She rushed into Rumple's room to see him thrashing about on the bed, his brow soaked with sweat and his eyes glazed and staring at nothing. The scene tore at her heart and all she wanted was to go to him and hold him in her arms. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and hugged tightly, biting her lip as she debated how to help him.

Despite everything he had done, a part of her still loved Rumple. And she could tell that since he was no longer the Dark One, the man she had always believed he could be was trying to come out. Yet, he had hurt her. Badly. And there were just some things there was no coming back from. Whether their relationship was one of them remained to be seen.

Still, no matter what, she cared for him and didn't wish him to suffer. So she told herself that she would help him through this, get him back on his feet, and then confront him about all the pain he had inflicted on her. Until then, she would keep her feelings in check.

She knew that what she wanted, what she had always hoped for might finally be within her grasp. And that was the most terrifying truth of all. Because deep down, she had never stopped loving him, and if he broke her trust again, it would destroy her completely. So she had to be strong, to hide her feelings away until he earned back her trust, and she knew that would be a road just as hard as any they had ever taken.

But she also knew that some of what had occurred had been her fault as well. She was so blinded to his faults that she fell for each and every one of his lies. And it had almost cost Killian his life, not to mention Emma becoming the Dark One. Therefore she had decided that she was no longer going to sit by and be the _naïve little wife-y_ anymore. It was time to stand up for what she deserved.

It was time to be her own hero.

That didn't mean it made seeing him in pain any easier, however, and unconsciously Belle found herself drifting closer to him, her hand gently brushing his sweat-soaked strands away from his face.

"She's coming," Rumple panted, repeating it over and over again, his eyes open but glazed over, unseeing.

Gingerly, Belle laid a hand on Rumple's shoulder, gently trying to pull him out of his sleep. "Rumple?"

"She's coming. She's coming. She's coming," he said, turning his head and staring sightlessly into her eyes.

"Who's coming?" Belle asked cautiously.

"The Dark Swan. She's coming to Storybrooke. She's bringing her army. No one will be spared."

"The Dark One?" Belle asked in confusion. Surely he meant the Dark One, not the Dark Swan. Why had he gotten the name wrong? "Emma? How?"

"Magic," Rumple whispered, his whole body trembling, his eyes swimming back into focus and locking with hers. Gently, he took her hand from his shoulder and squeezed it tight. "Light and Dark entwined. Stronger than both. She will possess your heart, Belle. She will destroy the world."

"How do we stop her?"

His whole body shook, and he appeared far more vulnerable than she had ever seen him before. "We can't. We can't. Only one…there's only one who can."

Belle nodded. Merlin. Of course. So there was hope, then. Henry and Hook would be back soon with Merlin and everything would be alright. Meanwhile, there was a town to protect. She squared her shoulders, finding her inner strength, her inner hero. "What do we do?"

His answer was the last thing she expected. With a breathless gasp, tears welled up in his eyes as fear consumed him. "Hide," he pleaded.

…..

"Wake up, Emma. Wake up, my darling."

Emma snuggled down farther into whatever cloud of unconsciousness she was riding and mumbled a grumpy, "Five more minutes." She was so tired. So very tired. She didn't know if she had the strength to wake up. Whatever she had been doing had completely sapped her. All she wanted was to stay in this beautiful, warm cocoon for a little longer.

Maybe it was the dream. Such an amazing dream. Killian had been there, and there had been kissing and… _other things_ …and she had never felt so safe and loved in all her life.

She could have stayed in that dream forever.

A soft chuckle answered her and a warmth, like the touch of her mother's hand, stroked over her back. "Come on, Emma. You don't want to miss this." But that wasn't her mother's voice.

 _Who was that?_

" _Fine_. I'm awake," she mumbled, blinking open her eyes, surprised to see only darkness.

Then, the darkness bloomed into light as a rushing, tugging feeling pulled her forward.

Suddenly, she was looking down at her hands, staring at her reflection in a round hand mirror.

 _What was going on?_

Then the same voice as before spoke, urging her to watch something. Only, it wasn't out loud, like she had thought it was, it was in her head. Just as it spoke, though, a wave of exhaustion hit her again, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet. She wondered about how disconnected she felt to her body, as if all her senses were muted and dulled. Like she was swimming through Jell-O.

Emma smiled secretly to herself, picturing Hook holding a bowl filled with a green blob.

"I tried to tell you before, Emma," the voice scoffed, "that you couldn't trust those who claimed to love you. Now I want you to see it for yourself."

Who was that? The answer felt important, but Emma couldn't quite summon the strength in her to figure it out. Not only was her body in goo, but it seemed her head was, too. But she did as the voice asked, tilting her chin down to see a small, round mirror in her hand. As she wondered why she was holding it, it began to shimmer and her face was replaced by a completely different image.

 _There was a cell, and a dark-haired woman sitting on the ground. Suddenly, two figures came rushing around the corner, stopping in front of the cell._

 _"Regina?" The gangly, red-haired man asked. He looked down and his glasses slid down his nose._

 _"Charming?" Regina asked in a startled voice, swiping at something on her cheek. "Where's Snow?"_

 _"Right here," called the older, hunched-back woman at his side._

 _Suddenly Regina's demeanor changed and fury laced her words. "You idiots! Why are you here?"_

 _The old woman pouted. "To rescue you. I told you…"_

 _Regina shook her head and got unsteadily to her feet, shirking off the man's offered hand. "You might as well take those stupid disguises off. She knows you're here. She knows everything."_

 _"Regina, what happened?" The man asked, pulling something off from around his neck as the woman beside him did likewise. Suddenly, a tall handsome blonde and a shorter, wide-eyed brunette were standing in their places._

 _Regina turned away them, hugging herself tightly. "Emma was here. She took my magic."_

 _Snow gasped, slowly coming up to Regina's side. "She took your magic? Why?"_

 _Clenching her teeth, Regina seemed torn but resolute. "It was the last thing she needed in order to open a portal back to Storybrooke. She's going to take her army of superhuman magic zombies through it and destroy the town. And she wants to take Henry."_

 _David and Snow both gaped, their faces etched in disbelief. "No. She wouldn't…"_

 _Regina snapped, reeling on the couple. "Wake up, Snow. She's not Emma, she's the Dark One. We need to get back to Storybrooke and get the dagger. It's the only way to stop her."_

 _"I_ won't _use that dagger on my daughter," Snow stated firmly._

 _Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, Regina took one step forward. Then two. Until she was hovering above the short-haired woman. "She. Is. Not. Your. Daughter. That dagger is the only thing that can stop her."_

 _Snow stared her down, unafraid. Finally, she turned to her husband, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. "David, I don't know. There has to be another way. Taking her ability to choose away from her seems like the wrong thing to do. And I don't think leaving now is a good idea. I won't abandon her again."_

 _David sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, Snow, but maybe Regina's right. This isn't about abandoning our daughter, but we do have a duty to protect the town from the Dark One. And if Emma has truly given in to the darkness, then I don't think trying to reason with her would do any good. That dagger might be the only thing that keeps her from doing something she will regret."_

 _Reluctantly, Snow nodded her head, though her brow was still creased in an uncertain frown._

 _"We need to hurry," Regina stated. "If we can get back fast enough we might be able to stop this whole thing."_

As the image went dark, the last thing Emma saw was her parents walking away.

And the voice was speaking to her again. She knew that voice. It was the voice inside her, the voice of the Dark One. Only now, the voice didn't seem like an enemy. It felt like the voice of an old, trusted friend.

"See? Do you see, now, Emma? _That_ is what the heroes do. They want to control you, to make you their _slave_ , because now you have darkness inside you and you can't be trusted. They never trusted you. And that is why they put the good of everyone ahead of you. Their own daughter. Their so-called friend. They don't believe in you. They never have," the Dark One whispered.

The words draped over Emma like fine silk, wrapping her in their smooth seductiveness. And _man,_ did they feel _good_.

"You were right, Emma. The only one who saves you _is_ you. Why do you want to be like them, anyway? What's so great about being a hero? Do you know what being a hero means? It means you are nothing more than a servant to others. Do you know what being the Savior means? It means you're the one they can blame for their piddly little lives going wrong, instead of standing up and fighting for what they want. And what was your reward? Hmm? What did you get out of all of this? A life of hardship and betrayal!"

Every syllable found their mark, etching into her like nails into skin. The pain of her lifetime of abandonment and misery digging under her skin and making her feel raw, exposed. The simmering rage that was caged inside her only waiting for its moment to be unleashed.

And yet, the rage made her feel stronger, too. Because now she wasn't some helpless orphan. She was magical and powerful and a thing to be feared.

"You've sacrificed everything for them-your _childhood,_ your _son_ , even your _lovers._ All for what? What's wrong with wanting some happiness for yourself for a change? That's not evil, Emma. After the life they forced you into, you deserve to put yourself first. You deserve your own happy ending. I can do that for you, Emma."

While she was listening, Emma noticed that sensations were returning to her, nerves that had fallen numb painfully waking. But as the pins-and-needles tingles receded, she noticed her body felt different. Stronger. More powerful. Like new muscles aching to be tried out. She flexed her fingers, reveling in the sparks of magic shooting across her diamond-dusted skin.

It was mesmerizing. _She_ was mesmerizing.

Why had she been fighting against this so hard? Why had she resisted the pull of darkness for so long? Everything it told her was true. Her parents would never put her first because they were heroes, and heroes always had to sacrifice everything for others because people were weak and pathetic creatures.

"Don't you want to show them how their noble, heroic choices have made you feel? Don't you want to make them for not trusting you? All magic comes with a price, right? _Maybe it's time they paid up._ " That voice wasn't outside herself anymore. That voice was her own; her own thoughts, her own desires.

"Yes," Emma agreed. She was filled with a new sense of purpose, a new direction for her darkest emotions, her deepest desires. They wanted a savior? They would get a savior. One who could bring real peace by removing the biggest obstacle in the way—their free will.

Oh yes, she would still be the Savior. She would bring the happy endings back. But now, they would be her happy endings, the ones she saw fit. But those who resisted would tremble and know the full extent of her wrath. No one could stop her, no one could _save_ her. For she didn't need _saving_.

And with neither a bang, nor a whimper, Emma Swan was no more.

The Dark One was no more.

In their place, a new woman stood, Dark and Light in equal and terrifying measure: _The Dark Swan._

* * *

 **Reviews?**

 **A/N- I am mostly through writing the next chapter, and provide everything goes well, I will hopefully have it up early this week.**

 **Next up: Henry and Hook share a moment, face a monster, and find an unexpected ally.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N- Short note. This is my favorite chapter of this story. I really, really enjoyed writing the interactions between Henry and Hook and this one. I hope you feel the same way.  
**

 **Sorry about how these chapters just keep getting longer and longer. There's only 3 or 4 more to go, though.**

 **I appreciate all of you who are reading this and want to thank you for your continued support. As always, I love to hear from you!**

* * *

 _"A boy needs a father to show him how to be in the world. He needs to be given swagger, taught how to read a map so that he can recognize the roads that lead to life and the paths that lead to death, how to know what love requires, and where to find steel in the heart when life makes demands on us that are greater than we think we can endure."_  
― Ian Morgan Cron, _Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir...of Sorts_

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 **Chapter 11: Stages of Life-Enterprise and Benevolence**

The water turned turquoise as the Jolly Roger neared the shore of the island. The beach was covered in sand so white that it almost seemed as if the clouds, which were thicker near the island, had descended to form a firm terrain.

Killian and Henry wasted no time anchoring the ship in the bay and prepping a small landing boat to take them to shore. As they worked, their excitement built until they were both sporting wide grins by the time the supplies were packed up and their landing craft hit the water.

Despite Killian's wariness for what they might find on this island, there was a bright feeling in his chest that everything was finally moving in the right direction. He refused to think about dream from the night before (and the disturbingly _real_ way Emma had felt in it), in favor of watching the lad smile and squint in the bright sunlight.

There would be time to brood later. Right now, he was going to bask in the good moments when they came.

As they beached, Killian directed Henry to help him drag the boat towards a pile of silver grey driftwood. They made quick work of unloading their supplies, even though their boots sunk into the sand and the sun was a little too warm. Watching Henry load up his pack and strap on the cutlass, Killian couldn't help but think he looked far happier than he had seen him in a long time. How long it had been since he last smiled so freely? And Henry wasn't the only one affected.

 _Emma, we're coming, love. Hold on. Please hold on._

However, he knew that despite the island's serene appearance, they still needed to be careful. Killian eyed the tree line with distaste, not looking forward to having to travel through yet another bloody forest. At least it wasn't as thick as Neverland's, and so far, he hadn't spied any wild animals or other signs of life. He wasn't sure if the stillness made him feel better or worse.

"We should make our way inland," Killian declared. "That forest will be hard to travel through at night, and who knows what dangers may be lurking."

Henry agreed readily and began trotting off, but before he could get far, Killian's stilled his movements. With a firm hand on his shoulder, he forced the boy to look him in the eye as he bent down to his level. "Be on your guard at all times, and never, _ever_ leave my side," he commanded, adopting the deadly serious tone of pirate captain.

If Henry had been anyone else, Killian was sure they would have been quaking in their boots. Unfortunately, Henry was not. Perhaps it was because he was the son of two very head-strong women who had never been afraid of him. So all he did was smirk back. "Sure thing, Killian."

"Henry, I'm serious. We have no idea what we might find on this island, and I'd rather keep our focus on finding Merlin than having to find you."

"I'm just kidding, Killian. It's not like I'm going to go running off. I know better, don't worry."

 _I can't help but worry, lad._

Killian merely nodded and held out his hand, letting Henry take the lead.

The coolness under the canopy of trees was a welcome change after the journey up the beach in the hot sun. Still, Killian couldn't help cursing and grumbling as he cut through the thick brush with his cutlass.

Henry followed closely, laughing at him. "I take it you don't like trees."

Killian glanced back, huffing in mock annoyance. "I partially blame your mother. She always has me traipsing around these blasted places with her. I've often wondered why all our adventures involve some form of hiking through the woods. What I wouldn't give for a nice sea adventure," he said wistfully.

"Isn't that what we just had?"

"Still water and only a passing breeze?" He huffed indignantly. "Give me the smell of canon fire or the dip and rise of the ocean after a squall has passed. Now that's enjoyable!"

"You're strange," Henry responded with a shake of his head.

Killian chuckled to himself, giving him a mock glare. "First I _smell_ and now I'm _strange_?"

Henry stopped to face him. " _I was under a curse!"_ He cried in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air. "And I already apologized!" He rolled his eyes as he playfully poked at Killian's chest. "Besides, you were trying to kidnap me!"

Killian let his jaw fall open like he was completely affronted. "I didn't have a choice, lad. Bit hard to say no to someone who has your heart."

Making the same sort of embarrassed scrunchy face as his mother, Henry grumbled out a quiet, "I know. Sorry."

Deciding it was bad form to let the boy continue to think he was mad, Killian threw back his head and laughed. "No apologies needed, m'boy."

Henry glared at him, realizing quickly that he had been played.

"So," Killian grinned, continuing on his way as he swiped at the lower branches with his cutlass. "You really think I'm strange?"

Henry sighed, shooting him a look that said 'how can you even ask me that?' He held up his hand, counting off on his fingers as he said, "Well, for one, your nearly four centuries old—"

"Three-and-a-half," Hook corrected.

" _Three-and-a-half centuries old_ ," he sighed. Another finger joined the first. "Two, you come from the Enchanted Forest, which considering everybody in Storybrooke comes from there isn't that strange, but it's weird to the rest of the world." Henry flicked up a third finger, "Three, you _think Spongebob Squarepants_ is the epitome of evil."

"That ruddy crab—"

Cutting him off quickly before Killian could launch into another tirade about the cartoon, he waved his hand for him to stop. "And finally, you wear more eyeliner than either of my moms."

Killian rolled his eyes, exhaling noisily. "What is it about my kohl that seems to offend everyone so? Do not the people of this realm wear kohl?"

"They do, but the only guys who wear it are either in a rock band or think they're a Cullen."

Killian only blinked blankly at him, completely at a loss. "So, are you suggesting that I should cease wearing it?"

"No," Henry said quickly. "Actually, I pretty sure mom thinks it's hot. She might kill you if you…"

Henry stilled, his body slowly freezing into place as the full impact of what he said hit him.

At first, he didn't notice the way the boy halted, but after a moment of silence between them, Killian turned around to see what was wrong. Henry was staring hard at a clump of moss, the telltale redness in his cheeks and shine in his eye giving his emotions away. Quickly, he replayed what the boy had been saying and he felt his stomach drop like a stone.

Unable to let the boy descend into despair again over an ill-worded comment, Killian cleared his throat loudly, immediately drawing the boy's attention. "Considering that your mother has attempted to kill me on numerous occasions, I doubt one more would make much difference." He gave him a wan smile and held Henry's gaze until he could see the ache leaving him.

Henry shrugged back. "Yeah." He inhaled deeply and adjusted the pack before picking up the trail once more. As he joined Killian, he added, "Sorry about that. It's not you, it's this whole situation. I'm just still really worried about my mom."

Killian nodded, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair, a gesture that had become as second nature to him as breathing in the last few months. He looked down, seeing not the lad on the cusp of adulthood, but a small, scared child still struggling to deal with a huge loss, yet another child forced to grow up far too quickly. Right then and there, Killian vowed that he would do whatever it took to make sure Henry didn't lose what was left of his innocence. If it meant playing the fool or forcing himself to be act more cheerful and optimistic, well, then so be it. Henry's happiness was worth any sacrifice.

"As am I, lad. As am I."

…

They continued on for some time, the forest growing increasingly dense and tougher to navigate. Several times, they would have to stop and work their way down a sharp ravine or scale over a large cluster of boulders as the terrain began to gradually slope upward. It was slow going, but not unpleasant, and Killian found himself even humming a few jaunty tunes to pass the time. Henry seemed to perk up at this, occasionally injecting made-up lyrics that would never have passed muster with any of his other parents.

Killian merely laughed and thought of how natural he would have been aboard a ship as a cabin boy or even a powder monkey.

"Henry, could you—" Killian began to ask, when a tremendous roar shattered the silence around them. After having gone so long with no other signs of life, the sudden noise jolted his whole body.

"What was that?" Henry cried, searching the area.

Killian spun wildly around, looking for the source of the disturbance, but seeing nothing out of place. However, the hairs on his neck and arms were standing up, and he could feel a slight change in the air. "I don't know, lad, but I'm not going to stick around to find out. Come on!"

He began to push hard through the trees, swiping at anything that got in his way. Just up ahead, there was a narrow but deep ravine, possibly the long ago remains of a dried up stream, and he had a feeling there might be better coverage there than being out in the open.

From just behind him, he heard Henry give out an annoyed grunt. "Killian! Slow down, I think the strap on my bag is stuck on a branch."

In an instant, Killian swung around, assessing the problem. "Here, lad. Let me—" He slashed through the branch with his hook, releasing the bag and Henry stumbled forward. He looked up at Killian with a smile, but as soon as he did, it fell off his face.

"Killian!" He shouted, pointing at something behind him.

Killian turned his head, seeing only a looming shadow gathering off to their right and hearing the thunderous crash of something very large approaching. "Run Henry!" He yelled, pushing the boy ahead of him. Nearby, along the edge of the ravine, a smooth, flat rock jutted out from the ground providing the perfect space in which to duck under and hide. "Under here, lad. Get down!"

He pushed Henry in first, making sure he was deeply in the shadows of the overhanging rock, before joining him.

"What is that thing?" Henry whispered, his eyes wide and worried.

Killian scanned the forest, unable to see whatever it is, but hearing the telltale signs of its approach. "I've no bloody idea, but I'm not keen on introductions." Somewhere nearby, a tree snapped and cracked, sending a shower of leaves to the forest floor below.

Risking a look, Killian stuck his head and shoulders out from the shadows. He gulped and drew in a deep breath. There, about a stone's throw away, was the largest, hairiest, four-legged beast he'd ever seen. It was larger than the elephants of Agrabah, possibly even the whales of the deep oceans off Neverland. Even from this distance, he could see the razor sharp teeth and the way it sniffed the air for scent.

They weren't safe here.

"Henry, when I tell you to, I need you to break for the tree line and keep going until you reach the edge of the forest," he directed firmly.

Henry furrowed his brow. "What about you?"

Checking the creature's position, Killian dug through his pack, arming himself with his pistol and a small dagger which he slipped into his boot while he talked. His sword and hook were already at hand. "I'm going to distract it and lead it away."

"No way!" Henry exclaimed, frowning deeply. "It could kill you! And I'm not running away while you fight that thing alone. I can help."

Killian spared a glance at the anguish and determination in the boy's eyes, but shook his head. He swallowed hard and placed a heavy hand upon his shoulder. "Lad, I'm not debating your capabilities, but if I allow any harm to come to you, your mothers' wrath will make what that thing might do to me look like a pleasant cuddle. Besides, you were right. This is your quest; you are the one who needs to find the Sorcerer."

He had no doubt of the boy's ability to complete his mission; the way he had saved them all in that alternate universe more than proved his resourcefulness. He saw the internal debate going on behind Henry's eyes, but Killian knew this was the way things had to be. He had his suspicions from the beginning about the nature of this quest. A little voice in the back of his head had been whispering that this was a journey he wouldn't be coming back from. While he hated leaving the thought of leaving Henry all alone here and he absolutely despaired at the thought of breaking his promise to Emma, he knew she would eventually understand. Henry's safety was more important than his life- always.

However, that didn't mean he wouldn't fight tooth and nail to survive. It simply wasn't in his nature not to and he had no intention of letting Emma down if he could help it. But he was a realist. Despite all his talk and bravado, he knew there were some battles that couldn't be won. Was this one? He hoped not, but the odds didn't bode well.

"Killian, seriously. I can fight," Henry argued.

"I know, m'boy. But I'll be fine. I'll catch up with you on the other side," he lied as smoothly as he could, the impervious and brash Captain Hook mask easily slipping back on.

Henry narrowed his eyes at him, trying to search out the truth. He clearly wasn't buying it, but Killian knew he was a smart lad and it wouldn't take him long to see that there was really no other options.

Henry held Killian's stare, his face hardening with resolve. "Okay, I'll go. But I want it known that it was under protest."

"Understood," Killian replied, a small grin forming on his lips. _Every inch like his mother._ "Now, lad, be ready to run. I'll try to divert it over towards that hillock," he said, indicating a rise beyond the tree line to the eastern horizon. "Once it's clear, run as fast as you can. After you get out of the woods, find a safe place to stay and wait for me. Don't stand on ceremony, though. If you see a reason to go on, take it. I'll find you."

Killian readied himself, perching on his hind legs and watching as the beast tore through the last row of pines with one swoop of its monstrously sized claws in an attempt to reach them.

Suddenly, there was a light hand on his arm, and he looked down to see Henry giving him a sad look. "Killian…"

"Aye, lad?"

There was something in the boy's eyes that was oddly familiar, a tender look that he had seen often from Emma, but never from the lad. Could it be possible the boy cared for him? Killian dismissed the thought. Obviously the boy cared, he was a friend and Henry always worried for his friends.

 _Don't read too much into it,_ Killian told himself. _It's nothing._

"Be careful," Henry said.

He smiled and nodded, squeezing the boy's hand on his arm in his own just once before releasing it. "And you."

In a flash, Killian darted from under the stone shelter, rounding the brush and scrambling out of the ravine until he was in full view of the creature. Up close, it was even more ghastly. In many ways, it reminded him of a lion, only with the jaw and teeth of a shark and calculating humanoid eyes. Towering over him, almost to the very top branches of the tallest pines, it let out yet another earth-shattering roar.

Killian approached it brandishing his sword high, and yelled loudly and clearly, with not an ounce of fear, "Oi! You great hairy beast! Looking for a tasty treat, are you? Well, look no further!"

As soon as Killian spoke, the beast immediately focused in on him, and only him; its golden eyes glittering with intent. Killian steadied his weapons (his hook was always at the ready) and took several purposeful slow strides backwards, circling it cautiously. It tracked every movement with great interest, following him with barely concealed hunger. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it was enjoying the fact that someone was standing up to it. In fact, it looked like his defiance was making it even more curious and determined. This was a good thing, though. It meant that Henry would be able to slip away unnoticed. However, Killian dared not take his eyes off the beast to check on Henry, praying the boy would follow his directions and not make a move until Killian had lured the thing a fair pace away.

Knowing that the predatory gleam in its golden eyes meant that it would attack the second his concentration faltered in any way, Killian summoned all his three hundred plus years of experience and faced the beast as only Captain Hook could-head on and grinning madly.

…

Henry watched Killian carefully, not daring to move until the creature had turned away fully. The pirate had managed to divert the creature's attention, but it was still far too close to run. As it passed by, Henry got his first look at it. He almost wished he hadn't. Its claws were the size of a bicycle and they left huge gashes in the dirt as it stalked the Captain. He could also see the way its sinewy muscles were tensed, like a cat about to pounce, and he knew it was only a matter of time before it sprung.

As he was judging the distance, trying to figure out if it was safe for him to run, something caught Henry's eye. For a reason he couldn't explain, he suddenly began to panic. While most of the body was very lion-esque, there was an oddly formed tail at its back end. It was a dark, reddish brown, segmented and tapering to a point with a wickedly sharp barb at the end, and if he didn't know better, he would have thought it looked like an insect.

Something within Henry snapped at the sight of it. A memory of when he was younger and his mother had bought his a book on mythical creatures. He had spent hours looking at mermaids and unicorns, but mostly, he had looked at the monsters. One in particular stood out. The Manticore-part lion, part human, part scorpion. It held a deadly toxin in the barb of its tail that would render its victim paralyzed while it took its time feasting.

The same barb that was bobbing mere feet away from where he was crouching. The same barb that was just waiting to strike its intended meal— _Killian._

There was no thought, no decision, really. Henry simply knew that he couldn't let it get Killian. As he quietly exited the shelter, using the tree roots to crawl his way up, a crazy half-formed idea began to take shape in his mind. At the top, he hid behind a wide oak, watching the creature stalking the pirate, Removing his cutlass, he adjusted his grip and carefully followed behind the beast, trying not to be noticed.

His plan was admittedly crazy, but pretty straight forward. He just needed to get close enough so that he could cut the barb off with his cutlass without getting eaten or stung in the process. Unfortunately just as he was at a good distance to take a swipe, the Manticore unfurled its tail, the segments clicking into place and curling upwards over its body. It looked more like a scorpion than ever, with the segmented tail curled up like the letter 'C'. An oily black substance leaked from the tip of the barb, confirming his suspicions about the poison. It seemed like it was prepping to strike, so if he was going to make a move, it was now.

Unfortunately, the tip was resting above the creature's backside, easily thirty feet in the air. How was he going to get to the tail now? Looking at the thick fur, it suddenly occurred to him what he needed to do.

Heart thundering out a mad beat, Henry ran forward, grabbing onto the golden tufts of fur on the creatures hind legs and used the momentum to propel himself upwards. He struggled not to drop the cutlass as he slowly rose towards the top of the Manticore's rump. Luck, it seemed, was on his side. Either that or the fact that a thirteen-year-old kid climbing up its legs was about as noticeable as a fly on a horse. It smelled like wet dog and felt like coarse straw, but Henry paid no attention, focusing solely on getting to the top without getting thrown off. Thankfully, Killian was still keeping it distracted and the creature was moving at a slow, steady pace. The last thing he needed was for it to start running.

Making it to the top happened quicker than expected, and Henry took a beat to allow himself a moment of pride. As plans go, it could have been worse, and at least now, he was within sight of his goal with the very deadly looking barb was squarely at eye level. All he needed to do was lop it off and jump away. Henry adjusted his stance on the creature's back, widening his feet and bending slightly at the knees (apparently lessons on keeping your balance on board a ship also worked for riding house-sized monsters as well), and raised the dagger high, gripping it like a baseball bat.

Henry swung his arms back, gathering all his strength to strike. However, the sunlight must have bounced off the metal and alerted Killian, because a second later, he broke eye contact with the Manticore and started yelling.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

Without warning, the creature pounced. The movement caused Henry to lose his balance and almost loose his sword. At the last moment, he managed to grab a thick chunk of fur with his left hand and squeeze the cutlass harder with his right as he hung on for dear life. It let out a fearsome roar as it lunged forward, jaws open and claws out. Risking a glance behind him, Henry could see Killian making broad swipes with his sword, each time drawing blood before it could get close, but the Manticore seemed undeterred by the wounds.

Henry watched in horror as the beast angrily tried to tear into Killian with its razor sharp teeth. It clawed at the pirate's face, forcing him to duck and roll away. For his part, the pirate was putting up quite the defense, but Henry knew it was only a matter of time before the beast used its secret weapon. Unable to call out a warning to Killian about the tail above the booming roars, he knew he there was only one thing he could do.

Planting one foot squarely on the rump, Henry reached out towards the segmented tail, ignoring the sickening slickness of it, and used it to help him stand once more. As the creature darted, Henry ended up hugging the tail tightly to keep from being thrown. Although his pulse raced and his breath caught as he heard the clanging sound of metal meeting bone and Killian's desperate shouts at him, Henry tuned it all out. He had to remain focused so he could make his move quickly and he couldn't allow anything to distract him. Suddenly, Henry felt his whole body calm as time seemed to stand still. Without hesitation, he pushed away, standing proud and tall, pulled back, and _swung_.

A pained scream rent the air as the Manticore began thrashing wildly back and forth. Henry fought for purchase but before he could find something to hold, he was suddenly flying through the air. At the last second, he remembered to duck in his head and roll slightly so that he wouldn't land on anything vital. Amazingly, he landed in a fairly soft, peat-covered clearing a few yards away, his shoulder bearing the brunt of the impact as the air was knocked out of him.

For a second, his vision went black. When it came back, Killian was hovering over him checking him for injuries.

But Henry wasn't looking at him, he was too busy gloating over the fact that the great big bad monster was now caterwauling all over the place and scurrying to get back to wherever it had come from as fast as it possibly could.

"It worked," he uttered, smiling to himself despite the ache in his shoulder. He laughed a little, rolling over onto his back to see the bright blue sky above him.

Only, what he saw instead was Killian. With his hook trembling and one hand raking through his hair. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from the pirate (probably something like _"Good form, lad. Couldn't have done it better me self."),_ but the look of absolute _fury_ in Killian's eyes wasn't it.

In fact, he couldn't remember ever seeing the pirate look so angry at anyone. Ever. Not even Gold.

"WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS WERE YOU THINKING?" He roared. "I TOLD YOU TO RUN, NOT TO JUMP ON THE BLOODY THING AND RIDE IT LIKE A HORSE!"

"The tail," Henry whimpered, an odd tightness in his chest making it hard for him to breathe. _Why was Killian so mad at him? He had saved his life. What was his problem?_ "The tail was poison."

"I DON'T CARE IF THE WHOLE BLOODY CREATURE WAS POISON! I TOLD YOU TO GO AND YOU DISOBEYED ME!"

 _Okay. So_ this _was the Captain Hook of legend_ , Henry thought worriedly. _This_ was the guy they were talking about in the tales; the vengeful pirate who caused men to quake in their boots at the mere mention of his name. Henry trembled lightly, trying not to think about how said pirate looked as though he was ready to plant that hook squarely in his chest and yank his heart out. Hook's eyes were so dark, they were almost black, his normally pristine hair was in disarray, and the scowl on his lips tightly drawn. Rage. Anger. Fury. And it was all directed at him.

Even though Henry had faced his fair share of villains (his mother _was_ the Evil Queen, for pete's sake), he had never been as scared of any of them as he was of Hook's wrath right now. "I…I'm sorry," Henry stammered. "I was just trying to save you."

Something flashed across Killian's eye, but the ferocity on the man's face didn't change. "It is not your job to save me," he seethed.

"Don't worry, I won't do it again," Henry spat, his own anger slowly rising. _What gave him the right to be angry?_ _And who did he think he was? Trying to tell him what he could and couldn't do? Hook wasn't his father. He wasn't anything but his mom's boyfriend._ "The next Manticore I see will be all yours."

He pushed up off the ground, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, and walked right past the pirate. He gathered his cutlass from the ground, slipping it into his sheath, ignoring the tremors in his hands, and dug out his pack from under the sheltering rock. Just a minute ago he was riding a high from having defeated a _freaking Manticore_ and now… Now he was so angry at Killian he couldn't see straight.

As he stormed off into the woods, he refused to look back.

 _I don't need you, Hook,_ he cursed.

...

 _Bloody hell._

 _Bloody buggering_ fucking _hell._

 _How did this whole situation get so out of hand?_

Over and over again, all he could see was a flash of shaggy brown hair, a gleam of steel, and the snapping teeth of the monster arching back towards the boy ready to tear into him. All he could feel was the absolute terror that overcame him when he watched Henry trying to lob off the tail, completely unaware of the danger coming for him. The strokes of his sword and hook deep into its sinewy flesh was just barely enough to keep it from going after Henry. It wasn't until he took a deep gash to his arm and his blood scented the air that it was drawn away. After that, it was all he could do to keep battling and keep the litany of his thoughts away. Not that it worked. All he could do was act on instinct while his heart and head thundered a rhythm.

 _Not another one. I can't lose another one. Please. Not Henry._

And in the end, what good did he do? Try as he might, he couldn't stop what was happening. If Henry hadn't cut that beast's tail off, all his impressive swordsmanship would have amounted to nothing and both he and Henry would be in the beast's belly. They might as well start calling him Captain Useless.

And if that wasn't bad enough, when it was over, when all he should have been feeling was relief that the boy had survived, when he should have fallen to his knees and thanked the heavens, what did he do? He fell right back into being _him_ again—Captain Hook-with his anger and his fire and his blinding rage.

There would be no way, once they got back, that Emma or Regina or anyone would ever let him near the boy again. And why should they? He couldn't be trusted. He was still a villain at his core.

Who had he been trying to fool, thinking the thoughts he had been thinking. _You've gone and outreached yourself again, you worthless cur._ _You should have known better; should have seen the signs. You were never cut out to be a father. You were barely cut out to be a hero._

He should never have come on this journey. He should have let the boy come with his other mother, or his grandparents. Hell, even Granny or that surly dwarf would have been a better choice than bloody Captain Hook.

 _But no, you just had to play the hero, had to go on this mission, didn't you. Did you really think it was for Emma? Did you really think you could prove yourself to her, that she'd be impressed? You should have let the heroes do their job, should have stopped trying to be something you were never going to be, because now, not only have you let down yet another boy who will look forever look at you with contempt in his eyes and betrayal in his heart, you've let down Emma as well._

Darkness or not, she was never going to forgive him for this. Her son came first always, and he knew that… and he had almost died… and his heart had very nearly shattered… and…

 _…bloody hell, what was he going to do?_

….

Henry sighed and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. It had been a couple of hours of walking in that irritating silence only caused when people were avoiding talking to each other. At first, he hadn't been surprised to see Killian drifting along behind him, yet he was surprised that he hadn't yet said anything, even though it was within his rights to do so.

 _Shouldn't he have retaliated by now? Shouldn't he have demanded Henry apologize or go back to the ship or something? Shouldn't he have just walked away and left Henry to wander around pathetically in this forest alone? Shouldn't he have said something? Anything?_

A feeling, not unlike butterflies, swirled in his chest at the thought of the pirate staying mad at him forever. It was definitely a feeling he didn't like.

For his part, the anger had gone away pretty much the second he started walking away. Actually, it had disappeared completely as soon as he had caught sight of Killian's downcast face behind him. The man looked awful. It reminded Henry far too much of the desolate look Hook had worn for the weeks following his mom's disappearance. Henry wondered why he had it now. He wondered why the rage that had darkened Killian's eyes had morphed into something so profoundly sad it was painful to look at. Surely, it wasn't what Henry had said to him, was it? Surely he didn't care about Henry that much. He was just his mom's boyfriend. It wasn't like Captain Hook wanted to be his dad or anything.

 _Did he?_

A deep sense of guilt settled into the pit of his stomach and it only grew as they walked on. In fact, most of the walk had been spent reviewing what had lead up to the fight. It didn't take long for Henry to realize that he had been in the wrong. Yes, he had saved the pirate's life, but he had put himself in danger to do so. Looking back, he realized there was probably better ways he could have warned Killian about the Manticore without going to such extreme measures. His moms would have never approved. They would have responded exactly the same way.

And there was a tiny part of him that knew he had done it not just because Killian had been in danger, but because he had wanted to prove that he could be a fairy tale hero, too.

However ashamed he felt, though, he couldn't erase how upset he was about the way Killian had shouted at him. It was so intense and so out of character from the man who had only ever treated him with respect and kindness. And it was really, really upsetting that Killian had snapped like that. In fact, it was purely that little bit of resentment and confusion that kept Henry walking in silence for so long.

Only now, Henry was tired of the awkwardness between them. It wasn't fun, and it wasn't fair to either of them. And, truthfully, he was hungry. And his shoulder still hurt. And so did his feet. So when he snuck another glance over his shoulder to see what Killian was doing, he had already half made up his mind that he was going to apologize.

Maybe.

After Killian did.

Only when Henry turned his head, he noticed something he hadn't seen before. On the man's hook, there was a splash of red. Bright, red blood. The fresh stuff, not the dark, dried up stuff left over from the battle. It was dripping out from under his sleeve of his leather jacket and running along the curve of the metal before dripping onto the forest leaves below.

Shocked, Henry stopped dead in his tracks. Behind him, the pirate stilled automatically, barely lifting his head. It dawned on Henry that Killian had been following him for this long with an injured arm and he hadn't said a word about it. He hadn't even stopped to dress it. Why? Because Henry had taken off and Henry knew Killian was following despite everything because he wasn't about to let him go off on his own.

And what did it say about him that he didn't even noticed Killian was injured because he was too busy feeling all mopey and sorry for himself, just because the man had yelled at him for doing something really dangerous and stupid.

"Stop," Henry commanded.

Killian looked up slowly, his eyes deeply sunk-in and miserable. "What is it?" His tone was so flat and emotionless, there wasn't even a hint of the accent.

Henry felt his throat close up and the words faltered on his tongue. "You need to stop."

"Henry," Killian growled, a determined sneer on his lip. "I'm not going to stop following you."

Henry stared at the forest floor, clenching the strap of his bag. "I didn't mean that- I just meant we need to stop and rest."

The fire died out in Killian's eyes as it must have dawned on him that Henry wasn't trying to tell him to get lost. "Oh," he sighed, nearly collapsing to the ground.

In a flash, Henry rushed over to where the pirate sat, reaching towards the red-tinged hook. "Killian. Let me see your arm."

Automatically, Killian flinched and pulled his arm out of his grasp. "It's fine, lad. I assure you."

Henry glared, narrowing his eyes and reverting to the same tactics he used on his mom whenever she was being evasive—sarcasm and logic. "Are we really going to play 'who can be more stubborn' while you bleed all over the forest. You've met my family, right? I'm pretty sure I have the advantage."

A ghost of a smile crossed Killian's lips, and he rolled his eyes, but Henry could see his posture relax as he let his armor down. He lifted his arm up and twisted it, trying to get a better look at the wound. "Aye. You're right. Perhaps I should tend to it before I attract any more strange beasties with anything more than my dashing looks."

Approaching slowly, like he would a skittish animal, Henry dropped down beside the man. "Killian, let me see it." He held up a canteen of water and a scrap of clean cloth that he had dug out from the inside of his pack.

Killian studied his actions, the hollowness leaving his eyes only to be replaced by awe. "As you wish."

Killian slipped his hook arm through the jacket, gritting his teeth briefly in pain, as Henry got his first real look at the damage done. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had imagined, but it was pretty nasty. The claws or teeth or whatever it had been that had gotten to him had left a long, twisting slash around Killian's bicep. As he poured the water on, though, he could see that while deep enough to leave a scar, it wasn't so deep that a bandage couldn't fix it.

Killian nudged his side as he retrieved the cloth and handed him his old weathered canteen. "You'll be needing this."

"Isn't this rum?" Henry asked, taking the canteen.

"Aye, but it'll have to do."

Henry raised a brow and gave him a cheeky smile. "Am I supposed to drink it?"

Killian chuckled. "If you did, I wouldn't blame you, although I'm not sure your family would approve of the gesture." Killian adjusted him position and cleared his throat. "However, that was not the intended purpose. Pour it over the wound."

"Oh," Henry nodded, catching on quickly. "Okay." He unstopped the bottle, and dumped the contents over the red line. Killian made a sickened face that had more to do with the fact that Henry used all the rum then any sting caused by it. Henry rolled his eyes as he began to wrap the bandage, following Killian's clear and precise directions for how it was to be done.

"You know…" Henry started, wrapping the last bit of cloth around and tying it off in a neat little knot, "I just want to say, um, about before, that I'm sorry."

He looked up only to see complete shock on Killian's face. "What? Lad, you don't need to apologize. It was I who was in the wrong. There was no excuse for my behavior towards you."

Henry could see just how badly he had screwed up by snapping back now and he knew Killian was probably blaming himself for everything when he shouldn't be. He had to make this right. "No," Henry stated firmly. "You were right all along. What I did put me in danger. And what you did paled in comparison to what my moms would have done. Let's just say that I probably would be sporting a tail by now."

At this, Killian's brows shot up to his hairline and he chuckled nervously. "Aye, no doubt." After reaching up to scratch at a spot behind his ear, he exhaled slowly. "Be it as it may, I should have managed my temper better. I just was worried about you, Henry. I…I couldn't…" He fumbled with an open kind of sincerely that made that fluttering feeling return to Henry's chest.

A different kind of silence fell between them as they both processed what was said.

It was broken when Henry's stomach started to make gurgling noises and Killian began to smile at him. "I think we've neglected our stomachs long enough, don't you, m'boy?"

In a blink, it was like the fight had never happened and a warm fuzzy glow settled over Henry. Actually, he realized, he felt even happier than he had before the fight. Killian beamed too, his eyes as clear blue as the sky as the remnants of that horrible haunted look finally faded.

"Aye, Killian," Henry said, doing a terrible (yet still better than his mother's) impersonation of Killian's accent. "I think I could do with some sustenance."

Killian grinned so brightly at that it seemed as though the sun had just arose. He slipped his jacket back on and threw his satchel over to Henry. Fishing out some jerky, fruit, and bread, Henry flashed him back his cheekiest smile and said, "In fact, I'm so hungry I could eat a Manticore,"

Throwing his head back, Killian laughed long and loud, and Henry felt that same warm glow once more. Although he couldn't explain it, he knew that something had big had occurred between the two of them. He might not be ready to put a name on what they were to each other yet, but the thought that Killian might be something more to him than just his mom's boyfriend didn't scare him as much as it used to, either.

Shoving the last bite of apple into his mouth, Henry sighed in contentment.

Killian was working on a piece of dried meat, his good arm thrown over his raised knee, his other leg stretched out on the mossy carpet, reclining against a fallen log like he hadn't a care in the world. "How did you know, by the way?" He asked suddenly. "About the Manticore, that is."

Henry puffed up with pride, and then quickly tamped it back down. His stupid pride was what caused the last fight and he didn't want it to happen again. Instead, he thought carefully about how best to answer. "I don't really know. I didn't know at first. But as it passed by, I saw the tail and I remembered something. When I was little, my mom got me a book on mythical creatures and I remember always being fascinated by the monsters in it. I haven't read it in years, but it sort of just came back to me in a flash. Do you think maybe it's the Author thing again?"

"Aye, seems likely. You did say you could recall all that you had read. It stands to reason that might apply to books you remember as well," Killian answered quietly. There was a strange look in the man's eye. If Henry didn't know better, he would swear he was looking at him with wonder. A moment later, Killian stuck out his hand, gripping him tightly yet affectionately on his shoulder. "What you did was not only brilliant, but very brave, m'boy. Despite your rashness, I think your mothers would have been quite proud of you. As am I. Thank you for saving my life, Henry."

…..

There was a new lightness in his heart that Killian truthfully had never expected to feel. Maybe he hadn't messed up everything after all. Maybe the idea of him being a parent wasn't as far-fetched as he had always thought.

All it had taken was one look of sheer happiness from Henry and he was gone. He knew, with every fiber of his being, that he would love this boy as his own until the day he died. It mattered not to him that he his son, he loved him no less truly. And should the unthinkable happen and they never get Emma back from the darkness, Killian knew that he would never abandon the boy, not even in grief. He would be there for him just as doggedly as he was there for Emma for as long as Henry wished him to be around.

As they made their way to the edge of the forest, the shadow of the dwindling trees stretched out long in front of them. The low fluffy clouds, now tinged gold and orange, drifted overhead, circling the mountain top as if drawn to it. Though the mountain was still a ways off, the leagues between them and it didn't seem daunting, and Killian even spied the tell-tale sparkle of a lake just past a last grouping of trees.

Though it would be night soon and they would need to find shelter, he was suddenly overtaken by an impulsive thought. "Fancy a swim, m'boy?"

Henry followed his gaze and gave him a dimpled grin. "Last one there's a Krusty Krab!" He shouted as he shot off through the thinning woods.

Killian rushed after him, right on his heels. It had been so long since he had felt this hopeful and joyous that he couldn't help but marvel at how much fun could be had by running for the thrill of it and not because he was being chased by some sort of monster. As he drew near, gaining on Henry due in large part to his longer stride, he laughed heartily and gave him a sarcastic salute with his hook. Henry shouted and put on an extra burst of speed, overtaking him easily.

They were having so much fun that Killian almost missed the trail of smoke rising up near the edge of the water. However, several lifetimes of having to be constantly aware of his surroundings meant that even when he wasn't watching, he was always seeing. Immediately, he threw out his arm and halted Henry, practically lifting him right off the ground. "Wait!"

Henry immediately stopped, turning to look at Killian for further direction and Killian's heart swelled at the gesture. He cleared his throat and schooled his face before pointing at the smoke he had noticed.

Henry looked up in confusion. "What do you think that is?"

"I'd say it's a sign that we aren't alone here."

"Do you think it might be Merlin?"

"I've no clue, but whoever lit that fire wasn't concerned about it being seen." Killian said as he rummaged around in his satchel in search of his spyglass.

"Should we check it out?" Henry asked.

Killian nodded, clenching his jaw as his spyglass yielded no answers. The source of the smoke was behind a rocky outcropping and therefore blocked from view. "Aye. But—"

"Stay by your side, follow your directions, _yada yada yada_ ," Henry answered automatically. "Got it, Killian."

Frowning, he looked over but saw only sincerity and affection in the boy's gaze. The boy's sass was clearly meant to be playful and not spiteful. He gave Henry a wink and puffed out his chest. "That's Captain to you."

….

They approached carefully and Killian spied that the column of smoke was coming from the chimney of a little thatched cottage sitting right on the shore of the lake. It was the first sign of life since the Manticore and Killian wasn't taking chances that the occupant of the cottage would be friendly. He considered skirting around it and continuing on, but Henry was adamant that they needed to speak to the person inside.

"They might know where to find Merlin. It might _be_ Merlin, Killian. We need to find out."

"Aye," Killian reluctantly agreed. The boy's logic was sound, and despite the possible threat, they did need information. "But this time, when I give you an order—"

"I'll listen. I promise," he agreed readily.

Killian checked the pistol tucked into his belt and gave him a grim nod. "Very well. Be on your guard. And let's hope whoever lives there likes guests."

As they neared, he noticed that nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. In fact, the cottage seemed homey and well cared for. Outside, a lush vegetable garden was cut into the sandy soil and cheery flowers bordered a stone walkway leading to the heavy oak front door.

Killian led the way, with Henry behind him (and protected), his thumb playing over the handle of the pistol. Before they could even set foot on the porch steps, however, the door swung wide open and a lithe, beautiful woman greeted them with a smile.

"It's about time you got here," she said, her accent as dark as her skin. She rubbed her hands on the brightly colored apron covering her skirt and tilted her head towards the inside of her cabin. "Well? Are you just going to stand there, gawking? Come on in!" Then, she spun and went back inside, leaving the two of them frozen in surprise.

Killian turned to look at Henry who only shrugged. The woman had seemed harmless and welcoming, but Killian knew looks could be deceiving. Still, Henry had been right earlier, and they needed information. It seemed there was only one thing to do.

Cautiously, Killian entered the cottage, his good hand hovering over his weapons and his hook perched on Henry's shoulder. Once inside, they were immediately assaulted with the smell of something spicy and delicious coming from the boiling kettles and pans on the hearth.

The cottage was small and open, a bed with a vividly colored quilt was tucked along the far wall next to a trunk and a plush green chair. In the middle was a round table and four cane chairs, already set up with utensils and plates. A small settee pulled up next to the fireplace divided the two areas and was adorned with a multicolored array of pillows.

The woman herself was busy humming and stirring the contents, paying no attention to her two guests, her bright pink shirt, royal blue skirt, and purple hair scarf looking completely natural in this environment. "Have a seat wherever you'd like. Food'll be done shortly. Captain, how do you take your tea?" She asked as if they were old friends.

Thrown, Killian could only answer that he drank it hot, as Henry shot him a confused look.

"And what about you, Henry?" The woman asked, turning her head over her shoulder and giving him a smile. "I've got tea, cold water, or some berry juice. Which do you prefer?"

"How do you know my name?" Henry blurted.

She never stopped moving, grabbing a couple of bowls and holding them out as she said, "I told you. We've been expecting you."

"We?" Killian asked in his menacing pirate tone.

She shoved the bowls into his hand and grinned. "Food's done. 'Fraid there's naught but fish and fixin's."

"It smells _amazing_ ," Henry replied, sniffing the air.

"Aye, indeed." Killian cleared his throat and threw his hook arm heavily onto Henry's shoulder. "However, I'm afraid we've already had a meal and our bellies are quite full." He held the bowls back out to the woman and cocked his head.

Henry darted his eyes between, giving Killian a very pointed look. The boy frowned slightly in confusion, before exhaling and shrugging his shoulders. Killian felt that same sense of wonder that Henry was willing to trust him now, even though he could see his disappointment at not getting the chance to eat what smelled like a delicious meal. It was almost enough for him to change his mind and throw caution to the wind. But this was Henry's safety he was worried about, and he couldn't take any chances. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and slipped into his old pirate self.

The woman rolled her eyes at the both of them but mostly just stared hard at Killian. Finally, she huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. "Killian Jones, if you think I went to the trouble of making a stew that took all morning to cook only to poison it or put some sort of magic spell on it, then maybe you aren't as clever as the stories make you out to be." Her tone was anything but friendly.

Killian raised his brow, re-examining the kitchen (and all the cut vegetables and dirty dishes), and the kettle on the hearth filled with a thick, rich stew. It didn't take him long to see the truth in what the woman said and he merely replied with a courteous bow of his head. "My apologies, lass. I was merely trying to—"

"P'shaw! I know what you were trying to do, and I'll tell you again, I've been waiting for the two of you, so let's just skip right ahead to the part where you start trusting me. Besides, do you really think that if I meant you harm, that you would have lasted this long? This whole island only exists because of me. I control all that happens here, and if I had wished it, you would still be floating around that sea like piece of driftwood, so don't you be giving me no more of your sass, young man!"

Thrown, all Killian could do was blink rapidly and fiddle with the rings on his fingers. He scratched behind his ear, as beside him, Henry began to giggle. " _Young man_ ," he mumbled to himself "that's hilarious." Killian felt his ears grow even hotter.

"Our thanks, m'lady, for your hospitality." Killian growled, ready to change the subject. This time, when she held out a bowl of stew, he gratefully accepted it and passed one along to Henry as well. The woman smiled her approval, waving at the table for them to sit, and sauntering back to the kitchen to retrieve a loaf of warm bread and a jug of something that smelled like blackberry cider.

Killian stared into his stew, still reluctant to just trust the woman so quickly. "Perhaps, if we are going to be on such friendly terms, it might help for us to know your name, lass."

From the kitchen, the woman called out, "Oh, didn't I say? You can call me Nimue."

Next to him at the table, Henry whispered sharply, tugging at his sleeve. "Killian! In the stories, that's the name of the woman who betrayed Merlin."

He gave the boy a sharp nod indicating that he understood.

Suddenly, the woman in question appeared next to them, rolling her eyes as she placed her own bowl and plate of fruit on the table. "Oh, stop your whispering! You've nothing to fear from me. I'm here to help, believe me."

Killian's brow rose, and he smirked back at her. "No offense, m'lady, but why should we take your word on that?"

Instead of looking angry, though, she merely smiled warmly and shrugged. "Because I want you to find Merlin and end the Dark One more than anything," she said with such honesty, he was taken aback by it. She pushed the loaf of bread and a couple of mugs of tea towards them. "Here. Eat. Rest up. Then, I will tell you what I can."

Killian nodded at her and then once to Henry. He couldn't explain it, but when she had looked him in the eye, he had felt something spark between them, and he knew then that he was not the only one who had lost someone to the darkness.

…

After they had finished devouring the exemplary fish stew, she offered Killian a mug of a homemade hard berry cider and Henry a slice of warm berry cobbler. Her look told him that they would need the comfort as she began to tell her story.

Nimue's tale was both tragic and achingly familiar. After the death of her family by a corrupt king, Nimue swore that she would get her revenge upon the monarchy of the land by becoming the most powerful sorceress in the world. As she was travelling the realm in search of a teacher, she heard the locals speak of a mighty sorcerer named Merlin, who was not only well versed in magic, but who was determined to help people so that he could bring peace and prosperity to the land.

At first, Merlin seemed to be the perfect patsy. All she had to do was become his apprentice and pretend to seduce him so that he would reveal all his secrets to her. Then, when she had become just as powerful as he, she get rid of him and become the most powerful magic wielder in existence.

Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned.

"You fell in love, didn't you," Henry interrupted. He had been pushing around the crumbs on his plate with his fork while listening intently.

Nimue blushed and nodded, fingers drumming on the side of her mug. "I thought it would be easy to play on his affections, but it turned out, that I wasn't as unaffected by him as I pretended to be. I knew the moment he told me about his vision for the kingdom I was hopelessly in love and that I could never betray him. He was such a good man. There was a light that seemed to just emanate from his very soul. His love changed me. It changed the both of us."

Killian shifted in his chair, unable to look her in the eye. Thoughts of Emma, the way she brought him back from his darkness, plagued him and a deep longing ache filled his chest. He hadn't allowed himself to miss her while he was busy looking after Henry, but listening to Nimue's story was bringing back that feeling full force.

Nimue continued, hardly stopping to breathe. "Eventually word got around about Merlin's great powers. It didn't take long before the king was summoning him to the castle to investigate. However, the old king had died and on the throne now was a new, young king, one who wanted a different way of life for his people.

In those days, constant warring between realms had taken its toll upon the kingdoms and its people. Everyone was miserable and crying out for a savior. Merlin promised to help aid the king, to bring the lands into a golden age, a time of light and happiness for all. Merlin and King Arthur worked tirelessly to make that dream a reality, and for a while, they succeeded. Camelot was a place of wonder, the likes of which will never be seen again. But like all dreams, it started to fade and darkness found its way to the very heart of the kingdom, using love as its weapon." She broke off then, her voice distant and filled with sadness.

Killian watched her carefully, trying to detect any lies in her story, but so far, she had been nothing but completely honest. He caught little glances from her at certain points in her story, and he became certain she was doing it because she pitied him. It was starting to make him furious.

"It was Lancelot's love for Guinevere, wasn't it?" Henry surmised. When he saw the confused look on Killian's face, he quickly explained the story.

"You are correct, Henry," Nimue said with a smile. "The corruption only needed the smallest opportunity in order to gain a place in the fabric of the lives of those in the kingdom. When it happened, Merlin noticed the change and begged the king to search out and destroy the darkness. However, he, too had already fallen victim and would not heed Merlin's warnings.

So Merlin searched high and low for a solution, one that would not only rid the kingdom of the darkness, but that could keep it out forever. Thus, he created an object that was designed to trap and ensnare all dark magic within it. A hat."

A shudder raced through Killian, his mind instantly transporting him back to that day at the clock tower. "Do you mean the hat the crocodile had in his possession?"

"The same," she affirmed, adding another one of those pitying glances. "It is a very powerful object, but meant to be used for good. And in Merlin's hands, it worked. He was able to search out and contain the darkness before it could spread. Or so he believed." She paused for breath and to sip and her mug of cider, clearly stealing her resolve for the rest of the story.

"Mordred," she stated, a bitter edge causing her to bite out her words. "It was Arthur's illegitimate child who brought the true destruction of Camelot with him. In him, the gathered forces of dark magic were so strong, they were nearly unstoppable. Unfortunately, it wasn't until after the death of Arthur that Merlin was able to defeat Mordred. But when he tried to use the hat on the darkness inside of him, something went terribly, terribly wrong.

The hat wasn't powerful enough to contain all that dark magic, and the gathered forces banded together to form a dark entity so powerful, it was capable of snuffing out the Light forever. Merlin knew he couldn't allow it to escape, so he did the only thing he could. He took the sword Excalibur, a weapon forged with the oldest of Light magic and remade it into a dagger, one that was capable of uniting a human soul and the darkness permanently so that it could no longer roam free."

Henry's mouth dropped open. "Merlin was the first Dark One?"

She nodded. "Yes. He took that curse upon himself, trusting that his own light magic was strong enough to counteract the dark influences. But he wasn't. No one is. Gradually, it corrupted his light, turning him into more of a monster than a man, and one who was more powerful than any being in the realms."

"Wait," Henry stated, tracing patterns of water on her table. "If Merlin was the first Dark One, and he's still alive, how did he get rid of the curse?"

"The same way all Dark Ones do," she replied.

Killian stared hard at her, trying to decipher her meaning. Surely she couldn't be saying what he thought she was saying.

After pouring herself another drink, she looked at him before continuing. "I couldn't sit by and watch the man I loved become a monster, so I did the only thing I could do. I tricked a man, a desperate man, into stabbing Merlin with the dagger and taking the curse on himself."

If she was looking for absolution, she would find none from him.

"Are you saying that Merlin is actually dead?" Henry exclaimed. Killian could see the worry in the boy's features and knew he was no less concerned.

"In a way. What do you think this place is, Henry?" She said in a soft tone. "This is the Netherworld, where all souls exist between life and death. It is the place where dreams are born and the place you must pass through to move on. However, while the Dark One exists, a piece of him is tied to it, preventing him from the true death. I am here because I couldn't bear to be parted from him, even in death. I sacrificed my life to come here and create this place for us."

"So there is no way to help my mom? She's going to be the Dark One forever or until someone kills her?"

"I did not say that. Many long years, Merlin has searched for a way to end the Dark One forever. He has visited the realms through dreams and visions, directing events as he could for the greater good."

Killian could hold back his anger no longer. "Are we just pawns, then? Was Emma just another piece for him to manipulate?" He growled.

"No, Captain," she answered quickly and firmly. "Your choices have always been your own. However, Merlin has watched and observed, doing what he could to ensure that Light still lingers even in the darkest of times."

"So where is he, then? This great sorcerer?" He rose from the chair, slamming his fist down onto the table. "If he knows of a way to help Emma and he truly wants the Dark One gone, why is he hiding?"

She didn't seem to be fazed by his anger one bit, still giving him that same look with her ebony eyes. "Merlin has a reason, but to know it, you'll have to ask him."

"So how do we do that? How do we find him?" Henry cut in.

She turned back to the boy, a small smile on her lips. "I believe you already know the answer. You must climb the mountain. That is where Merlin is waiting."

"This is bloody ridiculous, and I am sick of being used as a puppet in your bloody games," Killian seethed. He very nearly was ready to grab the boy and head straight back to the ship. If Merlin wanted to help him, then he should help. All this cloak-and-dagger nonsense was infuriating.

"Perhaps. But isn't love worth the risk, Captain?" Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and once more he pictured Emma, her golden tresses stained with her own blood.

He stepped closer so that he towered over her. "I'll not risk killing Emma. I'd rather her stay the Dark One than watch her die."

"Wait, Killian," Henry said, putting a hand on his arm. Suddenly, all the rage died out of him and he turned to the boy with a look of apology. He didn't seem bothered by Killian's outbursts, however. In fact, he seemed more focused than ever. He looked at the sorceress and asked, "Are you saying that Merlin's found a way to destroy it?"

She sighed and shrugged. "I do not know."

"But there's a chance?" Henry prompted, his eyes lighting up with hope.

"Yes, Henry, there's always a chance. There's a very good chance that you will succeed where others have failed simply because Emma has something no other Dark One has ever had."

"Light magic?" Henry supplied.

"No," she said, taking hold of Henry's hand and looking him in the eye. "She has the strength of all those who love her. And whether she knows it or not, she is very, very loved. And if there is anything that could destroy the darkness, it is the power of love." As she finished, her eyes flickered over to Killian, who felt the truth in her words.

She was right, he thought. Emma had the love of her parents, her son, hell, the entire town of Storybrooke. And she had his love. And he would love her with all he possessed. Maybe Nimue was right, maybe that would be enough.

…..

As the fire died down to embers, Killian looked up through the window and saw the stars gathering overhead. It was too dark to do much more than find a place to rest for the evening. As if she was reading his mind, Nimue stood up, taking the last of the dishes (but leaving the jug of ale), and said, "Henry, Captain, please rest here tonight. Unfortunately, my home is not used to accommodating guests, but I have a barn out back filled with warm, dry hay. I think you will find it quite comfortable. And I will see that you are well stocked with provisions before you go."

She indicated for Henry to follow her to the kitchen and began to gather an assortment of food items together and wrapping them up in bits of parchment and twine. When she was done, she passed them along to the boy while she set about getting their bedding.

"How long is the journey?" Killian asked as she walked by.

"Weather on this island can be unpredictable," she answered without stopping. "But if you have a fair wind and an early start, I'd say you should be able to reach the top in two days."

Killian stared into the coals from his place at the table, mulling over all she had said and making plans for their journey tomorrow. Henry was still in the kitchen busily packing their bags with the wrapped packs, when she suddenly appeared at Killian's side. "Captain, may I have a word?" She whispered in his ear.

Killian turned to the boy who was gathering their things and handed him the bundle of pillows and quilts. "Henry, lad, why don't you take these and see about our lodging? I will stay and help the lady with the washing up."

"I'm on it!" Henry said, taking the patchwork quilts and rushing towards the door. He turned towards the sorceress and gave her a jaunty bow. "It was nice to meet you, Nimue."

"And a great pleasure to meet you, too, Author," she replied, her dark eyes twinkling like the coals in the hearth.

Killian allowed himself a grin over the level of the lad's excitement, but try as he might, he just couldn't feel the same. He was consumed with thoughts of Emma stuck forever as the Dark One, or worse, lying dead with the dagger through her chest. And while he still possessed a sliver of hope that they might bring her back, it was in his nature to be skeptical to a fault.

"Captain," Nimue interrupted, her face pensive. There was a sadness to her now that made him uneasy. Noticing his fears, she reached out and placed a warm hand over his. "I only wish to impart a small word of warning before you go. The mountain isn't steep, but it can be quite unforgiving. Take care to be on your guard. Also," she added, dropping her voice lower. "I know a thing or two about loss and about the marks it can leave on a person's soul. I, too, have made many mistakes in my life I wish to forget. But love saved me, and I know it has done the same for you."

Killian could hear the honesty in her voice, and the oh-so-familiar ache of someone who had lived in the darkness and regretted their actions. She didn't press, however, merely patting his hand one last time before stepping away. "No matter what you may face in the fight ahead, remember one thing, Killian Jones. It is the strength to carry on after we've lost all hope that truly defines who we are."

Though her words were obviously meant as an encouragement, they left him very unsettled, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why.

* * *

 **Thoughts?**

 **A/N- A quick note about Nimue. I had the idea for her long before A & E announced she would be a character, so I'm really interested to see how they handle it. Also, I predicted that Excalibur and the Dark One's dagger were tied together somehow, and I really loved how they showed that. So excited to see how this season plays out! **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N-HEY! I'm back! I know this took FOREVER, and I am sooo sorry. But here is 12K words to make up for it. And...good news... almost finished with the next chapter, so that should be up shortly. Getting very close to the end, however, that also means these next couple of chapters are VERY angsty. It broke my heart to write some of this, I'm not going to lie. Emma...oh, poor Emma. I loved that she was strong enough to not go truly dark on the show, but for this story...she doesn't have the support system and I'm afraid she makes some very bad decisions. You've been warned. However, I promise you, there will be a happy ending. And I'm even trying for a fluffy epilogue where I try to make up for all the feels this story contains.**

 **A HUGE HUGE thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far and who has reviewed and left comments. You have really helped me fight through some stuff that was going on and kept me focused on finishing this, so BLESS YOU!**

 **Enough of my rambling, on to the story...**

* * *

 _"You're always you, and that don't change, and you're always changing, and there's nothing you can do about it."  
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book_

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Stages of a relationship: The Power Struggle**

Rumpelstiltskin was a man of many talents. He was a spinner, a loving husband, a devoted father. And a coward. Or at least, he had always assumed he was a coward. Taking the Dark Curse had always felt like an act of cowardice to him and despite the fact that the magic he wielded with it gave him power beyond imagining, deep down, it had never truly gotten him over that belief. Which was why he had been so desperate to keep it. The darkness made him feel strong, made him feel confident. It made him feel… _invincible_.

But now? What was he without his magic? He was no longer powerful, no longer a loving husband or father, he was…

Nothing. Weak. A frightened little man who could never be enough. Or even worse. Because now he was hated and despised for what he had done as the Dark One.

Which is why he couldn't stop staring at Belle. Why was she here? Why did she persist in staying with him, in helping him? By all rights, she should hate him, she should have run away just as Milah had done. He was a worthless person who had mistreated her and abused her trust.

And yet… there she sat, holding his hand, that same sense of understanding shining in her beautiful turquoise eyes.

"Belle?"

"Yes, Rumple?"

"What are you doing?"

Belle looked down at their entwined fingers and suddenly let go. She gave him a small shrug in response.

"I didn't mean that, dear. I meant, why are you still here?" It was the one question that he hadn't really allowed himself to voice since his return to his old self. He had been too afraid of her answer. But now, with the Dark Swan coming, he might never get another chance.

"Because you need me to be, and I still care for you."

"But why? I certainly don't deserve it."

She sighed heavily, looking away as her mouth turned down into a frown. "I know," she agreed "but this isn't about what you deserve, Rumple. This is about belief. I believe that at your core, you are a good man. I want to help you find your true self."

He studied her closely, shocked by her words. "You should leave, Belle. I will only hurt you. I have hurt you."

Belle turned back to him, her lips in a tight line showing her anger. "Yes, you did. And at some point, we will talk about that, but right now, there are much more important things to be dealt with."

He tried to push her away from him, but she wouldn't be swayed from her spot on the bed next to him. "Belle," he growled, growing more frustrated by her inability to see the truth, "what I told you before, I meant it. You should go. You need to find someplace safe to hide."

Suddenly, she grabbed his hand tightly, her grip almost painful. "I will not! Rumple, there are lots of people in this town who are at risk. We need to find a way to help them."

Sadly, he covered her hand with his own. "I don't have any magic, my dearest. I can't even leave this bed without assistance. I have no way to save anyone."

"No, but you are smart, you are clever," she stated so firmly it took him by surprise. "Surely if anyone knows a way to protect this town against the Dark One, it would be you."

Rumple took her words in, turning them around and latching on to the hope within them. Could he help? Could this be a way for him to begin to make amends, not for his own sake, but he hated the thought of Belle suffering on his behalf. If he was being truly honest with himself (and after 300 years, he had actually learned to do so) he had already done that to one wife and he'd be damned if he would do it to another. He doubted his actions would be enough to even make a dent in the blackness on his soul, but if Belle still had faith in him, didn't he owe it to her to finally start living up to the man she claimed he was?

"Maybe there is," he conceded reluctantly, quickly adding, "but I cannot enact the magic myself, and with Regina gone, that doesn't leave anyone else."

Belle tilted her head in that adorable way that told him her brilliant mind was fast at work. "That's not true. What about the fairies? What about Maleficent and her daughter. Surely there are others as well. They may not be powerful enough on their own, but if they could unite…"

Catching on to her point quickly, he finished her train of thought. "...It might be enough to slow her down. But, the Dark Swan is far more powerful than that, darling."

She smiled, pulling his hands up to her chest so that they lay over her heart. Her eyes were shining with hope. "Killian and Henry are searching for Merlin. Maybe all we need is to buy them enough time."

"Oh, Belle," he sighed. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the images from his vision and therefore couldn't share her belief. Especially if that pirate was to be their secret weapon. Rumple frowned deeply at the thought of him running off to another realm with his grandson in tow. Yet, curiously, the boiling anger that used to accompany all thoughts of that man was noticeably absent. He still didn't care for him, but for the first time, he was able to see that maybe, just perhaps, Killian Jones wasn't the great evil he had always believed him to be.

And if Killian could be redeemed in his eyes, maybe he stood a chance as well.

His grip tightened and he pushed himself up so that he was leaning his forehead against hers. "I hope you are right, my darling." He felt the fear leaving his body an increment at a time, but it was enough. "Very well. I think there may be something back in my shop. A scroll with a very potent protection spell. It's located in the safe. But it will take every ounce of magic you can scrounge up to cast it."

Her answering smile warmed his entire body. "I'm sure it won't be difficult to convince them."

It was a bit naïve, but if anyone could pull off bringing the town together, it was his Belle. She was already standing, ready to rush out the door. He held her hand, pulling her back for the moment. "The spell needs to be used on only one location, in order for it to have maximum effect. A place large enough to house the entire town for as long as we can."

"I'll see what I can do," she nodded, her fingers slipping from his as she turned to go. And suddenly, the fears were back. Curse his weakness! Curse his damned leg and how he wouldn't be able to stand by her side and keep her safe!

In a flash of desperation, he called, "Wait! Belle, I need one more thing. That thie— _man_ —you were seeing-"

"Will?" She supplied, watching him cautiously.

Rumple tried to keep the jealousy from appearing. Belle's safety was far more important than any of his stupid issues of masculinity. Yet, he couldn't keep his lip from curling up into a sneer at the memories of watching another man kiss his wife. "Yes. Him. Could you please tell him I wish to speak with him?"

"Why?" She asked slowly, crossing her arms as she narrowed her eyes.

 _Belle,_ he reminded himself. _Protect Belle._ The jealousy fell away, and with total sincerity, he was able to look her in the eye. "I have a favor to ask of him. And an apology to make."

She was stone still for a minute, just studying him closely. At last she seemed to find what she was looking for and her shoulders relaxed. "Okay. I'll call him and tell him to come over."

"And Belle," he called, trying to mark this moment in his memory. It was breaking his heart to watch her leave him knowing this might very well be the last time he would see her. "Please remember there isn't a moment to lose."

…

"Excuse me, everyone!" Belle stated firmly, nervously twitching on her feet. Despite speaking as loudly and as authoritatively as she could, it did nothing to stop the others gathered at the diner from talking. Ever since she had arrived-the diner already full of dwarves, dragons, werewolves, thieves, and fairies- they had been doing nothing but arguing and bickering among themselves. Even though this meeting was her idea in the first place, she was having serious doubts whether her idea was a good one after all.

She was stealing up her courage, just getting ready to try again, when a deep voice at her side shouted loudly, "OI! SHUT YOUR GOBS, YOU ANIMALS! The lady has som'thing to say."

The diner fell silent as everyone turned to look in her direction. Belle smiled gratefully up at Will, who immediately went red and backed away. If they weren't in a crowd full of people who were now silently staring at her, she might have been able to thank him better. As it was, though, what she had come to say took precedence and whatever her feelings may or may not be for Will would have to wait until later.

She turned back to the room, looking out at the gathered crowd. It was more people than she would have expected, and about as diverse a crowd as any she had seen yet gathered in Storybrooke. Just as she had suggested to Rumple, she had sent out word to any and all who could help with an oncoming threat. She hadn't told anyone the specifics of the threat-about Emma's arrival and Rumple's warnings-knowing that she needed to keep it as vague as possible in order not to cause panic, but there seemed to be a general uneasiness in the air anyway.

After speaking with the fairies and dwarves (who would be sure to spread the word around), she had run into Robin just outside of the sheriff's station. He had been doing a wonderful job running things in the absence of Regina, Snow, and David, and she had made a quick decision to invite him along to the meeting as well.

Before she could ask, though, Robin took her aside, his face betraying his concern. "Have you heard from Regina or the Charmings?"

Belle bit her lip, unsure what to say, but figured she owed him the truth. "Yes. Last I heard, they were all fine," she said, her eyes falling to her feet.

Robin's soft voice coaxed her gently. "I sense there's more to it than that. What is it?"

"Regina was captured," she told him, but quickly added, "but she escaped and Snow and David were on their way to look for her. I'm sure she's fine now."

Robin's eyes went wide at this news. "Was she alright when you talked to her?"

Belle touched his shoulder, meeting his eye with sympathy. "Yes, she seemed… _angry_ ," she grimmaced, "but fine."

He smiled a little at that, and she took it as a good sign. "Um, Robin, there's something very important I need to do. I have an important message to deliver and I need to gather all the magic users in town together."

"Why?" He asked her, slipping into an air of authority she wasn't aware he possessed. "Is there something wrong?"

With a nod, she told him, "Maybe. I don't really have time to explain right now, but if you come to the diner, I will tell you everything."

Robin agreed, promising to help spread the word among those with magic, and quickly parted ways. Belle was left alone on the sidewalk, fretting over just how she was going to handle delivering Rumple's message.

Less than an hour later, Belle walked into the diner, opening the door on a cacophony of angry, raised voices as various groups discussed the spreading rumors. Though she was certain the town had a right to know about any potential threat, she hadn't quite anticipated how bad of an idea it was to invite _everyone_. How did Snow do it? Being a leader was not something she was ever going to be comfortable with.

Unfortunately, there was one person missing who could have helped her feel more confident.

At the last second, Rumple had decided that due to his past as the Dark One, his presence might cause more harm than good. He assured her she was more than capable of getting everyone to believe and to work together. Although his faith in her was something she didn't quite understand, she was thankful for it all the same. Now all she had to do was to explain the vision he had seen of the Dark One's arrival, get everyone to believe her, relay how to set up the protection spell, and get a bunch of people who didn't trust each other to work together.

Easy.

Belle took a deep breath, strolled confidently into the center of the crowd and raised her voice. "Um, thank you all for coming." She was met with a gradual waning of voices and more than a few sets of suspicious glances. With her confidence quickly eroding, Belle forced herself to just get on with it. "I, uh, I know that most of you are not going to like what I have to say, but, well, here it is. As some of you already know, Rumple's awake. He's awake and he's been helping Mary Margaret, David, and Regina in their quest to find Emma."

She took another breath and launched straight into the next part, knowing if she gave them any leeway, they would all start bickering about Rumple's trustworthiness. They could do that later, but right now, she had to tell them of his warning. What they did after would be up to them.

"I know how you all feel about him, and I know you have your doubts, but right now, that isn't important. What is important is that _I_ believe him. And I believe him when he has a vision of the future and tells me that the whole town is in danger."

Now there was an explosion of voices, everyone wanting to ask what she was trying to say. She held up a hand to try and calm them down, but it had little to no effect. "Look, we can argue later," she nearly screamed, fighting to be heard over the din. As she talked, more and more began to listen. "First, I need to tell you what he said. Many of you know that Rumple always had the ability to see the future. It's a gift that he hasn't lost now that he is no longer the Dark One. And last night he had a dream. He gave me a warning, that the Dark Swan was coming."

"The Dark Swan?" Maleficent's daughter (Lilly, Belle recalled) asked.

"Emma," Belle supplied.

Hushed mutterings ran through the crowd, but at least the squabbling had ceased. Everyone was now hanging on her words. All because of Emma. There wasn't a person here that hadn't been affected by her loss and wasn't worried for her. That much was obvious. Only now, she sensed that the tension in the air was more because of what everyone knew but no one had yet said out loud. Emma as the Dark One was a force to be reckoned with and there wasn't a person here that didn't realize it. She could see the fear in the eyes of the crowd as what she was saying began to sink in. "He said that she would open a portal and come here, along with…others."

"Others? What others?" Leroy demanded.

Belle wrung her hands and fought to stay calm. "Um, he wasn't certain, but he thinks she might have gathered an army of some sort. He said she's controlling them with magic somehow."

A new burst of arguing began. This time it was Granny who spoke up first. "Why would Emma come back here with an army? Does she think we're going to attack her?"

"Or maybe she just wants to be the next Evil Queen," someone else put in, earning them a hard glare from Granny and several others.

Belle rose her voice, fighting to control the fear that was starting to overtake the crowd. She couldn't help but think this whole thing had been a terrible idea after all. "Rumple doesn't know what she wants, but he says that she is very powerful and her arrival would be a disaster for us all."

"But Emma would never hurt anyone," Archie piped in.

"I know, but she's not really Emma anymore. Thanks to _her husband_ ," Granny seethed as she pointed a finger at Belle, "she's the Dark One."

Will suddenly darted out between them and shouted loudly. "Oi, lay offa Belle, would ya? It's not her fault."

Leroy growled and snapped back. "No, it's Gold's. And now he wants us to believe Emma will come back and hurt us? Emma the Savior? How do we know this isn't some sort of trick?"

Belle grew steadily angrier as the accusations against her ex-husband began to fly. None of these people knew what he was like now, much less what he was truly like before. She had to make them understand that without the dark curse, he was a different man, and that man was someone who was trying to be a better person. "Please, listen. I know you don't trust Rumple. But he is trying to change. I know it. And to prove it, he has given me a way to set up a protection spell somewhere in town where the Dark Swan can't harm us."

"Oh, how noble," Granny scoffed.

Leroy squinted his eyes skeptically. "What's the catch, lady?"

"There isn't one, I promise you," Belle assured. "He can't cast it himself, though. His magic is gone. And it needs everyone with magic to cast it, in order for it to be strong enough to stop the Dark Swan." She shot a couple of telling looks over towards the table of fairies and the corner where Maleficent and her daughter hovered.

"So, we're screwed basically," Granny announced, throwing her hands in the air before walking away.

"No," Belle stated firmly. She raised her head, somehow finding confidence even through her fear. "We're not. We just need those with magic to work together," she pleaded.

Blue stood up, tilting her head as she approached. "That's why you invited us all here?" She asked, not loudly, but enough so that she could be heard by those close by. "You expect us to work with _her_?" Blue gave a quick look over her shoulder to where the dragon witch sat, glaring.

Belle had spent long enough with Rumple to not be intimidated by the Blue Fairy. She looked up, met her eye and said, "I know you don't trust each other, but we are in this together." Her voice grew louder and more confident with every word and soon enough, the entire diner was staring at her. "We need to set aside our differences and protect this town."

"And we're supposed to trust the former Dark One and Maleficent? Why don't we just ask Greenie for her help while we're at it?" Granny quipped angrily, leaning over her counter in a clear attempt at eavesdropping.

"That's not…" Belle tried to protest and was cut off.

"I'm sorry, sister," Leroy interrupted, "but if it comes to it, we'll take our chances with crossing the town border. Leaving and never being able to return seems like a pretty sweet deal after all the crap we've had to deal with lately."

Belle's head was spinning. The dwarves wanted to leave. The fairies wouldn't work with the dragon. No one was listening. And in the meantime, the town sat defenseless against the Dark Swan. This was terrible. She couldn't do this. She was failing.

The dwarves began to file out the door, followed by Aurora, Phillip, Kathryn, and several others. Blue gave Belle one lasting pitying look before ushering her fairies out behind them.

"Wait, you—" She called out, struggling to find the words to get them to stay. Whatever she was going to say was swallowed up as the ground heaved violently beneath their feet, tossing people, dishes, tables and chairs, and anything else not bolted down to the ground. Just outside the diner, a loud clap of thunder and light exploded as everyone inside quickly ducked for cover.

The door was thrown open (the chimes jangling madly) and a shocked-looking Blue and her fairy nuns darted back inside. For a second, no one in the diner made a sound. Then, she took one long look at Belle and said in a voice both full of fear and sadness, "It's too late."

…

 _Running._ She hated running. And in the forest, no less. Why were hero types always freaking running every where? Why did they never think to have horses or carriages ready to go? And why did she think wearing these stupid heels was a good idea again?

"Hey!" Regina shouted, panting as she tried to catch up with the Charmings. "Stop a second!"

Snow slowed and turned around, concern in her eyes. "What is it? Are you okay?"

"Nothing a hot bath and a massage wouldn't cure. Why are we running? Why can't we use the dagger and stop her before she opens that portal?"

Snow and David exchanged glances before Snow shook her head. "We can't. It's not here."

"You left it in Storybrooke?" Regina asked with indignation. She rolled her eyes back and shook her head. "Didn't you think it might have come in handy to have the one thing that would stop the Dark One when you are going to face the Dark One?"

"It's safe," Snow supplied, never one to be intimidated by Regina's tactics. "And besides, we came here to find out her plans, not try to take her on."

"You're pathetic. The both of you," Regina spat with a withering glare at them. "We could have ended this already. You didn't bring it to keep it safe," she accused, "you couldn't bring yourself to use it on Emma."

Snow approached quickly, her face hard and determined. "She is _my daughter_ , Regina. I don't care what that darkness has done, deep down, she is still Emma, and I will not hurt her or take away her free will!"

 _Idiots. I'm stuck with a couple of idiots_ , she thought. "And what if she hurts others? What if she hurts one of you, or goes after Henry?"

"I know she won't. She'll fight the darkness."

And there was that foolish optimism. _Yes, Snow. Let's always see the bright side of things. Even if your daughter is clearly under the influence of darkness, has stolen my magic, and has created an army of brainless slaves._

"You are so blindingly naïve. That _person_ is not Emma. Not anymore. That is the Dark One. And the Dark One has no problems hurting people. Especially people Emma loves. We need that dagger. If you can't do it, fine! Give it to me. She needs to be stopped."

"Even if I agreed with you, which I don't. We can't. It's not here," David restated angrily.

Regina glared and him and through clenched teeth and a hazy red vision, said, "Then let's go get it. Maybe, if we are incredibly lucky and you two haven't screwed things up beyond all reasoning, we'll have enough time to get Ursula to open a portal back there before Emma—"

Beneath the feet, the ground shook, and over the tree line, a beam of pure white light shot up towards the heavens.

"Well, there goes that plan." She threw her hands up in the air and with a annoyed sigh, ignored the stunned faces of David and Snow, and began once more stomping through the forest. Without so much as a backward glance, Regina yelled irritably, "That light means she's opened the portal. So we need to get back. Now!"

….

At the edge of the forest, right in the middle of the road, a giant rip in the fabric of the world began to open and spread, the shifting watercolor light casting the trees surrounding it in shades of gold and silver. Beneath the expanding maw, the ground shuddered and shook with the force of magic needed to open a portal nearly as large as a city block. Eventually, the light dimmed, the air settled and a dark figure stood tall in the center of the storm. More and more figures came into view as the glow continued to subside until there was a crowd of hundreds. Once the portal had completely closed, and the only light was that of the afternoon sun, the head figure turned to the others, waving a hand as if to shoe them off. Immediately, the group dispersed, fanning out in all directions, but traveling in determined, mechanical strides towards their assigned destinations.

After a moment, only the one remained. She stood tall, head up and shoulders back, her fingers laced together behind her back, and her ankles crossed at the heel as she scanned the silhouette of the town in the distance.

"Hello, Storybrooke, I've missed you," the Dark Swan whispered as the last peels of magic-produced thunder echoed her words.

…..

Belle blinked, trying to regain her footing as she and the others tried to take stock of what had just happened. Beside her, Will held out a hand, pulling her to her feet with only a slight wobble in her sky-high heels. Blue and the other fairies were already regrouping, taking care of anyone who had been injured in the earthquake. Granny was busy fretting over her broken plates and dishes, and everyone else was just standing around, stunned.

"Are you both okay?" Robin asked, looking quite shaken himself.

She nodded at him and brushed down her skirt. Will was still watching her carefully, like he didn't believe she was alright. She gave him a reassuring smile and his shoulders and eyebrows relaxed.

"What do you think that was?" Robin wondered, but it didn't really take much effort to figure out it must have been some sort of magical occurrence, and coupled with Rumple's warning, the cause wasn't hard to determine.

"My guess is Emma," Belle stated.

Moments later, the door banged open and Leroy burst in, shouting, "She's here!"

Beside her Will rolled his eyes and shook his head. She could hear him muttering something about 'bloody dwarf might as well just get himself a flashing sign as well.'

Leroy darted forward, stopping in front of Belle, Robin, and Will. "Emma's back! There was a giant portal and we saw her come through. And she didn't come alone. It's just like you said, she's going to kill us all."

"Now, Leroy, we don't know that," Belle said with conviction. "I know what I said, but let's not jump to any conclusions just yet. Maybe there's nothing to worry about at all." And oh, how she wanted that to be true. Even after all she had said, even though her gut told her that Rumple wasn't lying about Emma being dangerous, despite the fact that the Emma she knew would never harm any of them. But a part of her couldn't help trying to cling to hope, even if it made her out to be a liar and she would never be taken seriously again. It would all be worth it to know that Emma had beaten the darkness, that she had won despite all the odds.

Leroy only squinted his eyes and crossed his arms. "Oh yeah? Then why are those she brought with her guarding the town's borders? And why did they practically try to strangle Dopey when he tried to leave?"

"Dopey tried to leave?" Robin said suddenly.

"He won the coin toss," Leroy answered flippantly. "Why does it matter? Didn't you hear the part about strangling? Some guy who looked like he could barely spell axe let alone lift one picked him up like he was nothing and threw him halfway down the road. It was like he was Superman, but you know, in an evil way. Evil Superman."

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay, we get it," Robin sighed, stepping between Belle and the dwarves. "Emma's probably not herself anymore, she's the Dark One. We still don't know what she wants." Robin reaffirmed.

"What she wants is to keep us here and pick us off one by one!" The scruffy dwarf screeched.

"Leroy!" Belle admonished. This was _Emma_ they were talking about. Didn't they get that? There was no way that she would just suddenly start killing people off for no particular reason, Dark One or not.

"Well, she definitely doesn't want anyone to leave," he added, in a voice only slightly less panicked.

Will, who had moved over to the window, turned around and called out, "Oi! Why don't you all stop yer bickering and just go ask her yerselves."

"What?" Several voices asked at once, as nearly every one ran over to see what he was looking at.

"Why you all have been bickering, she's been standing right out there, just starin' in."

Belle darted around a couple of overturned tables to get to Will. She followed his outstretched fingers as they pointed to the woman who was casually standing in the street, her shadow darkening the air around her. It was unmistakably Emma, but everything familiar about her was gone. Her blonde tresses were pure white and pulled back tightly into a bun. Her soft red leather jacket had been traded in for a severe looking black number with a high collar. The only color now existing on her was the bright red lips and nails. Everything else seemed unnaturally stark. Like she was a ghost. Or a vampire.

A tremor went through Belle's body as Emma turned from staring off into the distance to look at the diner. She found herself collapsing into a booth as Rumple's warning came back to her unbidden.

 _She's going to take your heart, Belle._

Robin sat down next to her with Will following on the other side, all of them with an unobstructed view to the street beyond. Everyone else in the diner seemed frozen, watching to see what the newest villain to arrive would actually do. So far, though, she hadn't done much. It was odd, watching Emma look around the empty streets, her hands clasped behind her back and a strange smile on her lips that made it seem like she was taking stock of the town mentally.

Belle frowned, propping her head up on her fist. "I wonder what she's doing," she whispered to Robin.

"I don't have any bloody clue," he answered with a slight nervous chuckle.

"That definitely doesn't look like our Emma," Granny sneered, coming from the back with a crossbow hoisted over her shoulders. Belle blinked and then glared at the older woman.

Will pulled down the blind on the window with his finger, looking out. "If it is, it seems like she's went and got herself a new wardrobe in the Enchanted Forest. I liked the old one better, meself," he commented. "This one seems a bit...scaly."

Robin must have noticed the way Belle flinched at those words, and he shut him up by clapping him firmly on the shoulder. "Let's just hope her clothes are all that's changed, mate. I'd hate to—"

Suddenly, he broke off in a quick gasp of air, and stood up, knocking aside the table and startling them. "Robin? What is it?" Belle asked.

A stricken look crossed his face as he pointed out the window. "That necklace she's wearing, I'd know it anywhere. It's the six-leaf clover I stole from Zelena. The one Regina used to disguise herself."

Beside her, she heard a string of soft curses from Will, confirming his observation.

Suddenly, everything he was insinuating fell into perfect alignment, and Belle groaned. "When I spoke to Regina, she wasn't in her disguise. But she wouldn't tell me if she'd seen Emma, either."

"Something is definitely wrong," Robin agreed sadly, once more falling back into the cushioned seat.

Belle didn't know how to answer, afraid of saying what they were all thinking out loud and making it true. Luckily, she didn't have to, as Will jumped in, bending over the table to whisper to Robin. "Oi, mate. Do you think it's s'posed to be glowing like that?"

Belle squinted out the window, following the direction he was looking. "Not unless it's being used for something magical."

"If she's the Dark One, then why does she need it to change her appearance? Wouldn't she be able to do that without the necklace?" Robin asked, hand scratching absently at his cheek and his eyes deep in thought. Suddenly, he turned to face Belle. "Are you sure Regina was alright when you spoke to her?" She couldn't help but notice the desperation in his voice. "Nothing seemed strange about her?"

Belle hesitated, trying to recall the details of their conversation. "Not really. She seemed fine, same manner of speech and all that. But…" she stopped and darted her eyes away, worried about what it might mean.

"But what?"

She shrugged slightly, "I can't really explain it. Regina just seemed sort of…distant… emotionally, I mean. Like she wasn't quite invested in what she was saying."

It was Will's turn to surprise her when he suddenly turned away from the window and stared at her, hard. "Like she dinnit 'ave her heart?"

"Um, I don't know. I guess that might explain it," Belle answered as best as she was able, hating the look of fear on Robin's face.

Robin shook his head defiantly. "No. No, that's not possible. Regina cast a protection spell on herself to ensure her heart could not be taken."

Will darted his eyes up to meet Robin's and the look he gave his friend was anything but hopeful. "Well, mate, maybe yer right, but there are other ways to control someone."

"Like through an enchanted necklace," Belle supplied, more pieces suddenly slotting to place in her mind.

Robin clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders, looking out at the still unmoving Emma in the street outside. "We need to get it back," he said and shifted to exit the booth.

"Whoa!" Belle cried, holding onto his sleeve. "Until we know what is going on with that Emma, I don't think it's a good idea to just go rushing out there and confronting her about a necklace."

Robin glared at her then turned to look back out the window. "Maybe it's time we find out what she wants, then."

"Guess that's my cue," Will said suddenly, sliding out of his seat so quickly, he was at the door before either could stop him.

Both of them scrambled out after him and called out for him to stop, but it took a pleading Belle to get him to hesitate and turn back. "Will? What are you talking about?"

He gave her a slight smile, one that didn't make it to his eyes, and then he was suddenly reaching out to grab her hand. "I made a promise to protect ya, and I intend to keep it." She frowned and looked down at their joined hands, wondering what he was talking about. But before she could figure it out, he slowly dropped her hand, tucking his own back inside his leather jacket, like he was trying to keep it warm. "Besides," he chuffed, "I'm not afraid of her, she's not the first evil sorceress I've come across. I'll talk to her."

"Wai—" Belle began, but before anyone could move, he dashed out of the diner.

She stood there, trembling, while Robin slipped his arm around her waist. Her mind reeled with worry. What was he going to do? What promise? None of it made sense…

Rumple. Of course. It had to be. Rumple had wanted to see him, to ask him a favor. Probably something along the lines of ' _make me a promise to protect Belle from harm and I'll promise to not try and kill you.'_ She glowered. No doubt it something both well-intentioned and patronizing, and very much like the old Rumple. When they made it out of this, she was going to have to add it to her list of things to 'discuss' with her ex-husband. But for now, she had someone else she needed to worry about.

…

Will sauntered right up to Emma as though it was just another typical day in Storybrooke and he was greeting the sheriff, not the Dark One. He flashed her a bright smile and she looked at him with a slightly raised brow, clearly waiting for him to explain himself. "Don't tell me they sent _you_ as their ambassador."

Throwing caution to the wind, he adopted his normal swagger and shrugged as he said, "I've never liked sheriffs much, me. But I will say you were the exception, barring the time you locked me up and fed me your leavin's."

"Is there a point here, _thief_?" She snapped, far colder than Emma had ever sounded. It was enough for him to know that the woman he was talking to was not the same one that he had come to be more-or-less friends with.

Will sighed, scratching at his neck. "'S'pose the point is that the sheriff I knew wanted to protect people, not hurt them."

"Hurt them?" She asked, clearly affronted by his observation. Her tone and stance suddenly became rigid and domineering and he wondered for a second if maybe he hadn't misjudged the situation. "I am protecting them! I am protecting them from their own stupid insecurities and fears. I'm protecting them from making the wrong choices and hurting people they care about. I'm protecting them from having their hearts broken."

Dawning horror at what she was insinuating washed over him, and all the bravado dropped from his voice. "Emma, you don't have to do this. No one here wants to hurt ya. We still care."

At that, she tilted her head and gave him a slightly disconcerting smile, her voice achingly sweet. "Do you still care? Will?"

The answer was simple enough, but for some reason the words stuck in his throat. For a reason he couldn't explain, it felt like a trap. "Course I do," he stammered.

Emma's smile curled up wickedly and in a flash, her hand was on his chest.

 _Oh, buggering hell_ , he thought. _Not again._ Knowing he had only seconds to act, he knew if he was to have any chance at helping Robin or Belle, this would be it. It might be his last heroic act, but at least he knew he'd go out on his own terms…as a thief.

As her fingers pressed to his chest, and her gaze locked on them, his mind quieted and the trembling left his hand. Moving on well-practiced instinct, it darted up, clutching at the glowing necklace. In one swift, smooth move, he felt the charm slip free, her eyes never registering its loss, as she focused her magic on his heart. The pain she was inflicting was excruciating, and already he could feel the traces of darkness clouding his thoughts. With the last of his coherent thoughts, he tossed flicked the charm away, hoping that Robin would find it on the side of the road.

….

Belle whimpered and clutched Robin's arm, wanting more than anything to shut her eyes and pretend this was all a bad dream. But Will deserved more than her cowardice, so she watched. And she had the perfect view. From where she stood she could see every ounce of pain on his face. She could see the strands of black magic lacing around him and sinking into his chest. She watched his eyes go blank and his posture change. She watched as whatever Emma had done to him seemed to leave him as nothing more than a hollow shell, unable to be anything else but obedient.

She could hear the collective gasp and cries from the others in the diner. Rumple was right, and the Dark Swan was far more powerful than any villain they had yet faced. She didn't need to remove a heart to control someone. She didn't need to crush it to destroy them. All she needed was a touch. Maybe not even that.

With a cruel smile, Emma tilted her head and stared straight at the diner. Belle felt a shiver go down her spine. It felt as if the Dark One or Emma or whoever it was out there was looking directly at her, as if this was all a show just for her benefit (or punishment). A second later that fear was confirmed when she snapped her finger and the library shuddered, turned to diamond-like sparkles, and crumbled to the ground.

Belle gasped at whimpered at the sight of her library, her sanctuary, in ruins on the street.

Emma spun around to see her handiwork. A satisfied smirk graced her lips. Then she turned back and shouted, her voice magically amplified so that every single person in town could hear her. "People of Storybrooke, you know me. And I know you. I know that you've spent your lives worried about some sort of villain coming in and destroying your happiness. And with good reason. How many times have you been tossed about and uprooted because of one curse or another? That's why I came back. To stop all that nonsense and to bring you your happy endings. I want to assure you that you have nothing to fear from me. I didn't come here to ruin your lives yet again. I came to make them better. I can take away your fear and your sadness and give you true, lasting peace. I am the Savior, after all."

As she spoke she still stared at the people in the diner, a smirk on her red lips for those inside, like she knew they had been talking about her earlier. Now it seemed as if she was specifically addressing them, even though her voice still carried throughout the town.

"All you have to do is accept it. And I know for some of you how hard that is. It was for me, too. I know some of you just aren't ready to believe. But you will. In time, you all will."

The threat implicit in her words left Belle shivering and clutching her arms around herself, despite the heavy wool coat she wore. If what she said was true, her plan was beyond evil, and if what Rumple had said was true, then nobody was powerful enough to stop her from enacting it. It might be too little too late, but at last she could finally understand how deep her ex-husband's fear ran.

"I will give you this night, to think it through and to realize that what I'm offering you is a good thing. Obviously, some of you are thinking about leaving town and taking your chances in the land without magic. I wouldn't recommend it."

Emma's tone was light and sweet, full of sincerity. And it was all lies. Every last word. Yet, Belle knew there would be people that fell for every word. How many would willingly take her offer? How many would walk straight into her trap with smiles on their faces. Emma had been beloved in this town, she had held the hope of so many in her hands. How many citizens would run to her, still thinking her the hero she always had been? Even worse, how many would go knowing she wasn't and simply wanting it anyway?

"It's a far more dangerous world out there than you realize," she continued in that sweetly patronizing tone. "So I've protected the borders in order to keep you here and to keep you safe. For now. Soon, though, we will venture beyond the town line and see this world together. We will make it our own. A place where you can finally have your happy endings."

Emma finished her speech, and turned to go, only to spin on her heeled boot and add in a quieter voice, one that was meant only for those in the diner, and more specifically, Belle realized, for her. "In the meantime, I suggest you don't piss me off." And then, in a puff of grey smoke, she was gone.

The second she vanished, the patrons in the diner erupted in flurry of worried voices and angry shouts. But all Belle could see was the dead-eyed, motionless figure still standing in the middle of the street, left like a warning.

Before she could be stopped, Belle raced out the door. "Will!" She cried out, and was suddenly caught from behind by a pair of strong arms.

Robin held her tight, even while she struggled as he pleaded, "Belle, wait! We don't know what she did to him. He could hurt you."

Belle slowly ceased fighting him as her brain was able to catch up with her heart. Chest heaving, she finally conceded and Robin released her. Cautiously, the two of them approached the man, but his eyes were hazed and unresponsive. Tentatively, Robin tried touching Will on the shoulder. It was like touching a marble statue. He didn't move, didn't even blink. If it wasn't for his slow steady heartbeat and the way his chest rose and fell, that's exactly what she would have thought he was. Belle called his name, even tried taking his hand, but nothing worked.

"What did she do to him?" She asked Robin, who could only shake his head. However, he was a bit distracted, searching for something on the pavement.

A slight shimmer a couple of feet away caught his eye and he rushed over to get closer.

Bending down, he quirked a smile back at Belle and held the object aloft. "That bloody bastard. He did it."

"Is that Regina's necklace?"

"Yes it is. He must have slipped it off her when she was touching him. That stupid, brave, bloody _gobshite_ ," Robin said, his voice going hoarse with emotion, as he slipped the necklace into his pocket for safe-keeping.

"Belle, Robin? Are you okay?" A voice called out. They spun around to see the remaining diner patron's making their way into the street. They were led by the most unlikely of duos: The blue fairy and Maleficent."

Without preamble, Maleficent strolled right up to Belle and said, "Rumple's plan. What is it?"

"Oh, so now you're ready to listen?" She snapped, crossing her arms and staring hard between the two women.

"Don't be insolent, girl, this affects us all," Maleficent sneered. "You said it yourself. Now, what was it? What do we need to do?"

"We need to find a place where we can protect the whole town. Somewhere large that can accommodate a lot of people."

"I think I know just the place," Blue supplied, with a curt nod of her head. "And I suggest we don't waste any time."  
…

"Well, I have to say, I was not expecting this," Ursula scoffed as they clambered from the docks back towards Storybrooke. It was utterly silent as they walked, not a soul in sight.

"Thank you Ursula, for getting us back so quickly," said Snow, her stomach knotted in worry.

Ursula stopped in the middle of the street and faced them. "You're just lucky I was in the area. Whatever this darkness is keeps spreading. It's affecting much more than just the Enchanted Forest now." With only a quick farewell, she reluctantly slipped away, back to her own kingdom and her own concerns, leaving Regina, Snow, and David to figure out the mess here in Storybrooke.

"I told you, Snow. She needs to be stopped," Regina commented.

Snow shook her head. "I don't know, Regina. It still feels wrong to try and control her." Beside her, David nodded in agreement and grasped her hand tightly in solidarity with her decision.

Regina crossed her arms and stepped in closer, the anger radiating from her body. "Using the dagger is the only way to protect this town. I cannot believe how naïve you two are! What do you think is going to happen? That she'll spread love and kisses to all she meets? She's the Dark One, whether she's in control or not, she's dangerous!" Her hands were now waving wildly to emphasize her anger and her fear.

As calmly as she could, Snow tried to rationalize with her. "We understand that. We do. But so far we haven't seen any evidence of what she's doing. So, firstly, _if_ we use the dagger, it will be only when we have to, and secondly, Regina, if there is truly no other way, then we will be the ones to do it. Am I making myself clear?"

"If she goes after Henry…" Regina growled in warning, her threat deliberately clear.

"Regina, calm down," Snow snapped, tired of Regina's hysterics when they had no idea what the truth of the situation was. This was Emma they were dealing with and they were not going to overreact and start a witch hunt when they hadn't even seen her yet. And certainly not based on Regina's word alone. "Henry's not even here right now and you know that Emma would never harm him, Dark One or not. Let's worry about the people who are. Starting with our son. Charming and I are going to get Neal and find the others."

"Fine. While you two go off to play make-believe, I will be in my vault trying to find a way to get my magic back and fix all this."

"Can you even get into your vault without magic?" David scoffed, earning himself a death-glare from Regina.

After a moment of very charged silence, in which Snow was certain that if Regina still possessed her magic, David would have been turned into a toad, she managed to calm herself enough to spit out, "Just get that dagger and meet me there in an hour. We need to keep it safe, if nothing else."

Snow's eyes darted to David's and there seemed to pass a silent conversation between them.

"Alright, seriously, what is going on? You two act all shifty whenever I bring up the dagger. There's something you aren't telling me. Out with it!"

"The dagger's safe, Regina. Isn't that enough?" Snow snapped back.

"No. It's not. Not when my safety and my son's is at stake. And how do you know it's…" Suddenly, she cut off, her eyes going wide. She took a step towards David and poked him in the chest with her finger. "Wait a minute. The only way you could know for certain that it was safe is if it wasn't here. And if it isn't in Storybrooke and you didn't have it in the Enchanted Forest, then…" She turned around and rolled her eyes at Snow, "Let me guess, you gave to the one-handed wonder."

"No," Snow said, lifting her chin angrily. "We didn't give it to Killian. He asked us not to."

"Then what…" Regina started, a confused furrow starting between her brow.

"We gave it to Henry," David supplied.

….

The town was quite, the normal hustle and bustle of even small town life was suspiciously absent. Regina had been pissed about the dagger and had stormed away shortly thereafter. Snow and David merely rolled their eyes and continued on with their own plans. Every second they were back without seeing either their son or their daughter was making them more and more heartsick. Anxiously, they rushed through the empty streets, while questions without answers plagued them. Where was everyone? Where was their son? Could this all really be Emma's fault?

It was when they turned down the main street toward Granny's and their loft that they saw it, and the slim hope they had been carrying that this was all a giant misunderstanding suddenly fizzled away. The library. The clocktower. Gone. No skeletal structure, no crumbling wall of bricks left to mark the location. Just a pile of ash and pebbles. And just like that familiar symbol of home and faith and family, their hearts, too, felt turned to dust.

"David," Snow asked in a trembling whisper, "do you think Emma did that?"

"It was definitely dark magic," David answered back, but she could see the pain in his eyes to admit even that.

"I don't mean that. I mean, do you think it was Emma, not the Dark One? Do you think she's given in?"

"I don't know, Snow. I hope not." He pulled her closer for just a second before releasing her. There was simply too much at stake for them to take the time to comfort each other like they wanted. Besides, they both knew the only thing that could truly bring them comfort would be to see their daughter and son and know they were alright.

"Come on," David said, pulling her along the hollow street.

It didn't take long to search all the familiar locations: Granny's, Gold's house, the Pawn Shop, the station. Any place where there might be a clue left as to what was going on. At least there were no dead bodies littering the street, no sign of mass extinction, or evil armies patrolling. People were just…gone. Of course, there was still the town line to check and a couple of other stops to make, but that would require more time, and they were already running short. Finally, David mentioned checking at the loft where they had left their cell phones. If they were lucky, there might be a message waiting to give them some idea as to what happened.

The loft was empty and a mess from an earthquake that seemed to have rattled the town but not caused significant damage. They had seen the evidence of it scattered throughout the places they visited and quickly gathered it was probably caused by the portal that opened to bring Emma here. Other than that, there was no sign of anything else amiss. The loft seemed just as comfortable and homey as the day they'd left. It was just so…wrong.

David rushed to get his phone from the kitchen counter and he scrolled through it quickly. Closing his eyes, he prayed the number would connect.

"David!" A voice shouted on the other end and he let out a breath in relief.

"Granny?" He asked, hope blossoming in his chest. Snow was at his side in an instant, listening in on what was being said. "Where are you? Where's Neal? What is going on?"

"Are you and Snow back? Are you alright?" The woman asked, sounding determined and upset.

"Yes, we're fine." Snow said, grabbing the phone away from her husband.

"Oh thank god," she sighed, falling into a bar stool at the counter. In the background, they could hear the distinct cacophony of a multitude of voices. "Neal's here, we're all here. Well, most of us. We're okay."

David met Snow's eyes and instantly it felt like the weight that had been choking them was gone. They couldn't help the smiles spreading over their faces. Snapping himself back into sheriff mode, David took the phone back and asked, "Wait. Where is 'here'?"

"At the church," Granny answered. "Practically the whole town is here. There's a protection spell on the building so that the Dark One can't get in."

The fear was back, though hearing that people were safe had gone a long way towards keeping it at bay. "Why do you need to protect the town against the Dark One?" He asked.

There was a bit of a pause in the line and it seemed as though Granny was shifting the phone so that she couldn't be overheard. "Sorry David, I know she's your daughter and all, but she's doing something to people. We don't know what it is, but it's like she casts some sort of dark magic spell on them and they become her slaves. Look, if you are out there, you aren't safe. Just get here fast, and we'll tell you everything you need to know."

"Okay, Snow and I are on our way," David assured her.

"Stay safe. And don't trust her, David. She's not your daughter anymore," the old woman added with a sternness they hadn't heard from her in a long time.

After the call ended, David turned to his wife, taking her hand across the counter and just struggling to maintain his calm façade enough so that she wouldn't fall apart. "We have to go to the church. That's where everyone is. Apparently, they put up a protection spell on the building so that Emma couldn't get in and hurt anyone."

"So it's true then," Snow muttered, her eyes heavy with sadness and defeat, as she rubbed at her temple with her fingers.

What could he say? It would do no one any good to keep pretending that Emma was still the same person, that she wasn't some dark, dangerous thing. It would only get people killed. And no matter what, their hearts were already broken. "Seems that way. Come on, Snow," he gave her hand a slight tug and helped her to her feet. "Let's go get our son and get some answers. Then we can figure out what to do about our daughter."

"Alright." Snow agreed, allowing herself to be pulled along out the door by the strong, steady hands of her husband. As they left the loft, though, she stopped and David turned to look at her. "Wait! What about Regina? Without her magic, she's vulnerable, too."

Rapidly forming a plan that would involve keeping his wife and son safe no matter what, David told her, "Fine, the church isn't far from the vault. After we get there, I'll go after Regina."

…

"Regina? You down there?" David called out, taking the vault steps hastily. Snow was already at the church with their son and Granny, who greeted them at a side door and told them how to get through the protection spell. No one else had been told of their arrival in town, knowing it was best to keep that a secret for now. After briefly holding his infant son and covering him in fatherly kisses, he darted away again, knowing that every moment they wasted was more time Emma would have to find out they were here. With a promise to be back quickly, he left his family to retrieve Regina and get her back to safety so that they could all work on a way to protect the town and stop their daughter.

"Yes," Regina answered, just as David hit the bottom of the staircase. She was scrambling around in a room towards the back where he could see a variety of books and potions splayed out in front of her. "But I'm not having any luck. You?"

"Unfortunately," he said, following her back towards the crypt. "We figured out where everyone was."

Regina looked up at him, lowering the red and purple bottles she held in her hands. " _Unfortunately_?"

"Yeah. The entire town are holed up at the church, protecting it against the Dark One." He answered, trying not to wince as he expected Regina's 'I told you so' to come with a fair amount of bite.

Oddly enough, it never came, Regina merely nodded sadly, and turned back to her spell books. "Well, I hope they have some sort of heavy duty protection spells, because her magic is much stronger than anything I've seen, and now I don't even have my own. The only way for me to get my magic back is for to get that necklace from around Emma's neck, but getting close to her seems to be a very bad idea."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," a new voice called out.

David turned quickly around, grabbing for a sword he carried at his belt, only to drop it to the ground with a clang when he saw who it was. "Emma!"

Only, it wasn't Emma. Not really. Everything that made her light and good was gone, replaced by a shadow of darkness that seemed to both cover her and radiate out from her. It was like she was covered by a pair of inky-black wings, matching the stark black leather she was clothed in and directly contrasting to her unnaturally pale skin and hair. But despite her changed appearance, he thought he could sense that somewhere inside she was still his daughter. Maybe it was the way her green eyes grew softer when they landed on him, or the way her brightly painted lips curved into a gentle smile. Or maybe, it was just a father's wishful thinking. Nevertheless, his arms reached out for her, desperate to hold her, to keep her safe.

"I go by the Dark Swan. But for you, dad, I can make an exception," she said with a soft smile that was equal parts genuine and malicious. She held out a hand to him, willing him to take it. He felt his resolve wavering, as his hand stretched out towards her almost of its own accord.

Behind him, Regina called out. "Emma, don't do this!"

Emma turned sharply, snapping her hand back to her side as she stalked past David and right up to Regina. "You had your chance, Regina. Now, this is between me and my daddy. So why don't you kindly butt out," she hissed, flicking her wrist and sending the other woman flying towards the stone walls. Regina hit hard, collapsing into a heap at the bottom, unconscious.

David balked at the violence coming from his daughter, and suddenly his mouth went dry. "What do you want? Why are you doing this?"

Emma circled round, like a predator playing with its prey, the warmth completely gone. "What I want is complicated. But the why is simple. It's fun," she giggled, biting her bottom lip.

Never had he seen Emma act or talk this way. It was unnatural and upsetting at the deepest levels. He thought he had been prepared to see her as the Dark One, but he had been so wrong. David shook his head, fighting back the anguish and tears. "This isn't you, Emma. You need to fight this."

Emma stopped in front of him, narrowing her eyes. "Fight what? The darkness? Why would I want to do that? Can't you see that darkness doesn't have to be a bad thing? I'm not hurting these people. I'm trying to help them."

Now he was confused. There was something compelling in her voice, something he couldn't describe, but all of a sudden, doubt clouded his mind. Could she be telling the truth? Maybe they had been looking at this all wrong. What if she was trying to do the right thing? "So they aren't your slaves? You aren't controlling them with your magic?"

She gave him another comforting smile, and he felt his body relax. _She was right. She was helping. She wasn't dark, just misunderstood._ "This is what they chose. What everyone will eventually choose. Why wouldn't they? I can give them a life free from fear and loneliness. Isn't that what I was meant to do all along, dad?"

His body jolted, little warning signals firing off in his brain. No. This was wrong. It was all wrong. She wasn't helping. She wasn't good. It must be her magic. Somehow, she was influencing him with her dark magic. A vision of that old lady attacking them in the Enchanted Forest flashed in front of his eyes, and he suddenly felt sickened, seeing for the first time just how far she had truly fallen. "But look at how you are doing that! Emma, you're taking away their free will! The real you would never take away their ability to choose. And that's exactly what you've done. I've seen them, they aren't really people anymore. Just empty shells full of darkness that are being controlled by you. How can you say that you are helping them, Emma?"

"I AM HELPING!" She shouted suddenly, her voice echoing off the damp stone walls. The effect was as heartbreaking as it was terrifying, and David started to realize then that the daughter he knew might truly be lost. "I'm giving them the life they asked for. A life, free from struggle and pain. And they are here because they asked to be. I gave them a promise to take them to this world so that they could have a better life. And if I have to nudge them along, then so be it."

Every word stung down to the bone, because she just couldn't see it. What she was doing wasn't helping, it was an act of the greatest evil, the removal of a person's free will. And now, there was nothing of his daughter, the brave, caring, selfless person he had come to know and love, in the woman standing in front of him. Still, he pleaded, "Emma, this isn't the way."

"No!" Lightning crackled around her hands, the floor of the crypt shaking with her anger. "Don't call me that. Emma was weak. Emma was scared. I'm not her anymore." Her eyes shone with their own dark light, as if starlight and moonlight was contained beneath her skin.

He took a step back without even realizing, afraid of his own daughter and feeling his world shattering because of it. "I don't understand."

She stalked closer to him, the eerie light sharply defining her cheekbones so that she looked like a living skeleton. "I'm the Dark Swan. I make my own destiny. And right now, I'm going to start by taking back my dagger."

"I don't have it," he told her, almost powerless not to.

Her returning smile was stretched and forced across her lips. "I know. Thanks to Regina, I know exactly where it is."

"Regina?" He asked, confused.

Her eyes darted over to the slumped form in the corner. When they returned to him, they were full of a secret happiness. "Yes, she has been working for me. Granted, she didn't know that, but that's what made it so fun."

Somehow, he managed to find his thoughts again, to draw from a strength he didn't even know he possessed. All the while, his heart was aching painfully in his chest, leaving it feeling hollow and empty. "What are you going to do? Why do you need it?"

The light died down in her eyes and she became eerily calm. A strange sense of happiness seemed to overtake her features. "Because with it I will be in control of my own fate for once in my life. With it, I will have the power to go where I want, to do whatever I want and no one will be able to tell me what to do! I want to know that no one who claims to love me will ever abandon me again. I want to stop living in fear and start living the life I deserve."

He was wrong. His heart wasn't broken before, but it was now. _Oh, Emma_ , _look what we did to you!_ He and Snow had tried so hard to fight for her, to love her, and yet they had been too late. She was still hurting from the pain of her youth and he knew it was completely his fault. The weight of guilt threatened to strangle him, but somehow he managed. "You're right, Emma. You don't deserve to live in fear of being left behind. But honey, you know we'd never do that to you. We would fight tooth and nail to stay at your side."

"Then why did you leave me?" In that moment, she looked like the little lost girl again. She looked like his daughter, just broken and sad and like she wanted nothing more than to have him hold her in his arms and take all this darkness and pain from her.

And dammit, he was too weak to resist. He took a step towards her, reaching out to find a way to comfort his hurting daughter. "What are you talking about?"

"In the Enchanted Forest. I saw you and mom. I heard you. You knew I was there, that I was close, but once again you left. You were oh-so-worried about the town. About these people. But I'm your daughter! I should come first!" She sounded so young, so raw. Her eyes held tears that he knew couldn't be an act.

Oh, how those words stung, not just because she was right, but also because she was wrong. Because there was nothing he wouldn't put ahead of his children. Not anymore. But they had made mistakes. Many mistakes. And every time, Emma was the one who suffered. "Emma, you do—"

"NO! I don't! And I'm tired of being afraid! I'm tired of not being able to have what I want." Her voice wavered, her green eyes dark and shiny and full of anger. She shook her head, struggling to keep her composure.

"What is it that you want, Emma?" He asked softly, reaching up to try and cup his daughter's cheek with his palm.

"I want what's mine to stay mine. I'm so tired of losing everything and everyone I care about." Her voice was broken and barely above a whisper and yet every word was stamped into his heart as if she had shouted it. Her eyes dipped and she stepped even closer, focusing on his hand. He continued to lift it up until it found her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. He sighed in contentment and was rewarded with a bright, happy smile. "That includes you and mom," she teased, sounding almost like her old self again.

David couldn't help but smile back. His heart bloomed with hope. This was it. He was getting through to the real Emma underneath the darkness with the power of his love. The real Emma was still there, still fighting the darkness after all. All he had to do was to keep her believing in him. "I love you, Emma."

She lifted her hand to cover his, and for one blissful moment, she looked back at him and she was herself again and everything was going to be alright. Suddenly, the grip on his hand tightened sharply, and her eyes closed. He barely registered it, lost in the haze of hopefulness and love, while around them, the light in the room dimmed, like clouds obscuring the sun.

Her eyes opened, darker than before, but still locked on his own, the hand still vise-like in its grip. "You're mine, dad. You belong to me. Just like Hook. Just like Henry. They are all mine and I won't allow them to be taken from me!"

He frowned, the happiness slipping away again at her sudden change in demeanor. "Emma, your mother and I love you so much. There's not a thing we wouldn't do to make you happy."

"I know," she agreed softly, the grip on his hand lessening in pressure as she pulled it from her cheek and placed it back on his own chest. "And I really, really wish I could believe you."

"You can believe it," he assured her, pleading with his eyes for her to understand. You just have to trust us." He wiggled his hand out from under her, turning it so that now he was keeping her locked against his heart.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough anymore, dad," she whispered, and with that, the hand on his heart turned to fire as he felt the surge of something dark and powerful strike his heart. She was looking at him with a sense of pity and emptiness that he never could have expected he would have seen on his own child's face. It was worse than having his heart crushed, worse than having Snow tell him she didn't love him, worse than any pain he had ever felt before.

David struggled uselessly against the darkness, his mind flashing through images of Snow, Neal, and Emma, as if the dark magic was trying to suck those happy memories away from him. But it seemed like the more he tried to fight to keep them, the faster they were lost in the eroding tide of blackness overtaking his soul. Despite it all, despite the evil tearing at him, David knew he couldn't look away from those vibrant green eyes (so like her mother's); knew he had to keep pouring the last of his love out entirely in the hope of reaching through the darkness that had swallowed up his daughter's light, even if he would never be able to see it again.

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 **Thoughts? Comments? Reviews? Want to flail about this season so far or the finale next Sunday? Hit me up!**

 **Next chapter-Captain Cobra feels and we will FINALLY meet Merlin. Don't lose hope! CS will be back together soon!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N- Yet another long long delay that I am so sorry for. I really hope this chapter makes up for your wait. This was the chapter that sparked the whole idea for this story. As such, it was INCREDIBLY hard to write. I think I've written like ten different versions at least.**

 **A huge thank you to all of you who have been so amazing and supportive and keep leaving me wonderful little reminders that there are people still reading this. This is for you.**

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 _"Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go._

 _-_ _Hermann Hesse_

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 **Chapter 13: Stages of Parenthood: Departure**

The barn Nimue had offered for them to sleep in was warm and dry, and surprisingly devoid of animal smells. When Killian had arrived, Henry had already been passed out on a pile of hay and blankets. With a light chuckle, Killian merely shook out a quilt over the top of him and then watched the rise and fall of his chest as he settled down nearby.

Try as he might, sleep was long in coming. Knowing this was the final push, their only chance to get the darkness out of Emma, his mind raced with all that he had learned from the witch and his ever present fears for her. Even Henry's soft, steady puffs weren't enough to calm him this night from the incessant cadence of his thoughts. _How was she doing? Was she still fighting against the darkness? Had her parents found her yet? Did she worry that no one would come for her?_

His heart ached with his love for Emma. He knew that with her past, all of her old doubts had to be plaguing her. Though she was the strongest, bravest soul he knew, without proof that they were coming, he knew the darkness would use those fears against her. It gnawed at his gut and left a hole in his chest as he continued to let his worries consume him.

As the moon retreated and the night turned black, his resistance was so worn down he finally gave voice to the worst of his concerns, the ones that he had long refused to listen to. _What if she was no longer his Emma? What if the darkness had taken her and she no longer loved him? What if Merlin couldn't be trusted? What if he never got her back?_

 _What if, what if, what if…_

Growling and cursing himself, he finally fought back, knowing how dangerous it was to linger on such things, even for a moment. Henry needed him and worrying about the future would only put him at risk. From the deepest part of himself, he summoned hope and forced his mind back on happier thoughts. In his mind, he replayed her confession of love, the look in her eyes when she tackled him in her loft, the moments she fell into his arms, and all their heated kisses. She believed in him, even when he felt he was unworthy, and now he had to believe in her. More than that, he had to believe in their love.

Eventually, he had drifted down; his mind focused on the way her warm fingers felt laced around his own, the way her hair would drift across her cheeks in the wind, just begging to be pushed back, and the way her smile made his heart burn. Sleep came, and at least on this night, there were no dreams.

It was a cool, grey morning when he awoke. There was the faintest smell of moisture in the air and all his instincts from his years at sea told him there would most likely be rain at some point. That didn't bode well for their journey, however, they had already wasted far too much time and he was itching to get on with it so he could finally go hunt down this bloody sorcerer.

Just after dawn, he woke Henry lightly, gathered their things, and made their way back to Nimue's cottage. The dark-haired witch was even more brightly dressed this morning, as she greeted them at the door, knowing how eager they were to be on their way. She handed them each a loaf of warm bread and a little jam for breakfast, a flask of sweet berry tea that she said would give them more than enough energy for their trek, and a couple of thin, wool blankets (hand-made and dyed in bright colors, of course).

Once more, she warned them again about the weather being unpredictable and to not take any chances should it decide to turn. Then, she told them how to reach the path that wound its way up the mountain, taking them to the top. It would be narrow and steep, but if they stuck to it, they would find their way to where Merlin slumbered.

As they left, Killian thanked her and Henry gave her a brief hug, which caused her to tear up very suddenly and practically run back to her house without another word.

"What do you think that was about?" Henry asked, looking back at the cottage.

The pirate frowned and shook his head. "Best not worry about it, lad," he replied, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and leading him away. He tried to push away the cold shiver that had slid down his spine, but couldn't seem to let it go.

Immediately, Henry poked him in the ribs and grinned. "Are you ready for Operation Frodo?"

"Eh?" Killian asked, coming out of his daze and feeling like he had missed something.

Henry rolled his eyes as they began to walk along the lake shore, but the smile never left his lips. "He's this, um, hobbit that goes on a quest to destroy an evil ring. And there's a wizard, an elf, a dwarf, other hobbits, a couple of other dudes. They travel all over the countryside. They even cross a mountain."

"Sounds tiresome," Killian commented, relishing the way his body's aches and pains worked themselves out as they trekked the sandy ground.

Henry adjusted his pack, but seemed to be full of energy and excitement. The sun was rising, the sky was dotted with those big puffy clouds, and the earth smelled of soil, rain, and possibility. "Yeah, I suppose. I mean, the movies are like 4 hours long each, so…"

"What on earth is a _hobbit_?" Killian asked, his mind half focused on his conversation with Henry and half on the land around him. Ahead of them, the beach gave way to an over-grown meadow, then a wide plain, before ending at the base of the mountain. If the directions Nimue had given them were trustworthy, they would spot the path they needed just as they crossed the plain. There wasn't much cover for their journey, but neither would they have to worry about unseen attacks, and Killian judged that they would make quick work of it. After that, they would begin to climb.

He could see the mountain clearly now. Its rocky face was interrupted by several rings of flat plateaus covered in trees. That was good. It would provide them with shelter and rest as they climbed. Though it was a tall mountain, it hardly seemed intimidating; the first leg consisted of a gently rising slope dotted with scrub and mountain grass. In fact, the only area where it seemed they might have any difficulty at all would be close to the top, where the mountain increased suddenly in steepness and sharpness. It looked as if the terrain there was made up of jagged boulders and fissures; like parts had fallen off to crash below.

However, Killian felt confident about their ability to traverse it, this not being the first time he had to attempt such a climb. And Henry was a strong, sure footed lad, so he had no worries about him, either. All-in-all, they might be able to reach the top by nightfall, or at the latest, by early morning.

Just as long as there were no other surprises waiting for them.

Henry was still talking, and Killian forced himself back into the conversation. "…big, hairy feet."

Killian raised a brow and shrugged. _What had he been talking about, again? Rabbits? No. Hobbits_. "Knew a sailor like that once. We called him Flappy Jim, on account of the noise his shoes made as he walked across the deck."

Henry suddenly broke out into uproarious laughter that Killian couldn't help but return.

After a bit, Henry turned his head up and stared at him. "You know, you kind of remind me of Aragorn a bit."

"Eh? Is he a devilishly handsome rogue, too?" Killian asked with a wink.

Henry shrugged. "Well…maybe. He's from the story with the hobbits. He was a bit of an outcast, but he was also a King." And then he added, with a hint of a smirk. "And he was pretty old, too."

"Ah," Killian said, with a shake of his head. "You know, it isn't wise to tease a pirate about his age."

"Oh, don't worry, Aragon retained his 'youthful glow,' too."

Puffing out his chest, Killian gave Henry a giant smirk and ruffled the boy's hair. "Then I approve. Tell me more about this fellow."

….

With a chuckle, Henry quickly ran through what he could recall of Aragon's story (which was surprisingly accurate and detailed) and finally ended up just recounting all the events of _The Lord of the Rings_ from the beginning for a captivated pirate. Every time he paused for breath or to take a drink of water, Killian would ask him more details (in a round-about, trying-to-not-seem-excited-but-wasn't-fooling-anybody kind of a way).

After the tale had ended and Killian had applauded him for his stirring narration, Henry teased, "You know, at least I didn't compare you to Gimli. Or Legolas." There was a heaviness in the air that was making him feel a bit off-kilter. Killian had remained completely silent as Henry talked about Frodo, Sam, and Gollum, and if he wasn't mistaken, there were even tears in his eyes when he recounted Boromir's death. What began as a way to pass the time, had left Henry feeling even more curious about the pirate who walked beside him.

"Aye," Killian agreed, far too sincerely, but with a lighter tone than previous. "Too right, that. Elves were always uppity little twits. I suppose I shall be eternally in your debt, then, m'boy."

Having gotten used to the fact long ago that Killian had pretty much encountered about every type of mystical creature there was (either that or he was an exceptionally good liar), he merely nodded back and swung his foot at a clump of rocks, scattering them across the path. "Man, when we get mom back, there are so many movies we need to make you watch."

He looked up just in time to see Killian try to hide the twinge of pain that crossed his brow, and therefore wasn't all that surprised that he immediately changed the subject. "I still don't quite understand your world's obsession with that moving picture box."

Henry laced his thumbs through the straps of his pack and thought about his answer, his eyes squinting against the warm gold sunlight. "Well, in my world, there's no magic, so people don't really go off and have grand adventures and stuff. They have to either read about it, or watch it acted out. I guess it's a way for people to have a little bit of magic in their lives, even if it is just pretend."

Killian gave him a look approaching awe, and Henry felt a flush of pride run through him. "I see," the pirate said with a smirk. "That explains quite a lot, actually."

….

The conversation dwindled, both lapsing into a comfortable silence and just enjoying the beautiful day. There was a hint of moisture in the air that Killian's long experience told him precluded a heavy rain, but he felt good about their prospects of making it at least halfway up the mountain before it would fall. The sounds of birds and insects droned in the background as the steady crunch of their feet on the rocky path marked the time.

Already, they had left the low plains and were on a steady rise, trekking easily along the path that Nimue had told them about. There was no apparent sense of danger and nothing had yet seemed amiss, but there was a deep, unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach anyway. Still, he wasn't about to let his always suspicious nature ruin the moments he shared with Henry.

And Henry, too seemed far happier than he had been in weeks. There was a restless energy that was to be expected, but overall, his emotions seemed calm and hopeful. Killian wasn't niave enough to think that all the issues between them had been settled, but he figured that (much like his mother), Henry would open up about them in his own time.

For now, though they could wait. They were back on track for their mission and he could only hope that once they did find Merlin that everything would go smoothly. He couldn't bear the thought of finding the sorcerer only to have it be yet another setback. It was a possibility that he had not even allowed for himself. Merlin was going to help them. They would get Emma back. That was it. End of story.

(And all the whispering demons in his head could just go back to hell.)

"Do you think you would have liked to grow up in the Land Without Magic?" Henry asked, startling him out of his silence.

"Hmm. Hard to say," Killian answered, honestly pondering the question. He had never given much thought to the magic-less realm, other than Emma's presence there. He had just been content to be by her side, no matter where that was. But how did he feel about that land? It was strange, but not the worse place he could have ended up. And it did have its merits. The food, the ease of travel and communication, and its entertainment, just to name a few. "Growing up in the Enchanted Forest was not easy, however, I've always enjoyed a challenge. Your world, for all its comforts, seems to lack for the kind of experiences that made me who I am today. However, lately, I've began to see the merits of having a life of ease."

"Yeah. I kind of wonder if things will ever settle down in Storybrooke. I mean, like there seems to be a new villain or a monster or a curse every week," Henry joked, but with no real humor behind it. Killian turned to look at the boy, who seemed more and more like a man every day. His heart swelled with affection, and he longed to see exactly what sort of man he would make.

"Aye, lad. That's been my experience also. But tell me the truth. If all the battles were over tomorrow, would you really be content?"

"After everything we've been through lately? If it means the people I care about were safe and happy, I'd spend my life doing nothing more exciting than playing chess," he replied tersely.

Killian nodded in agreement. "I never before could imagine the benefits to a simple, mundane life, but I find myself wanting that more and more. Especially if, as you said, it meant that our loved ones were safe and happy." He soon found himself lost in thoughts of future free from worry with Emma and Henry by his side. It was something he had only rarely allowed himself to imagine, not knowing how Emma truly felt about him and his place in her world.

He was so deep into his fantasy, he almost didn't catch it when Henry called his name softly. "Killian?" Turning his head, he saw that the boy had stopped in the middle of the path and was scuffling his feet in the dirt. Without looking up, Henry continued, "Can I tell you something? Will you promise not to be mad?"

Killian stopped, turning to the boy and kneeling down in front of him so that he could look him in the eyes. He could see the nervousness written in Henry's stance and knew that whatever confession he had to make was causing him a great deal of anguish. "Henry, lad, there is nothing that you could ever tell me that would make me angry with you."

Apparently, he must have sensed the truth in Killian's words, because the next second, Henry blurted out, "I broke the quill. That magic pen the Author uses. I broke it." His eyes shone with tears as he continued on quickly, almost as if the words were forcing themselves out of him. "I could have fixed all of this and given everyone their happy endings, and I just held it in my hands and snapped it. I think that's one of the reasons I've been so mad recently."

Killian drew his good hand into a tight fist, not because he was angry with Henry, but because it was just one more example of fate toying with them again. "Do you mind if I ask why you did it?"

Henry blinked rapidly, tilting his head and looking away. Killian could tell that the answer was not a simple one. "That's how Isaac got in trouble. He tried to write his own stories, to change things in order to have his own happy ending. It was wrong."

He sensed then that the reason why Henry was telling him this was because the guilt was eating at him still, that there was a part of him that wasn't sure if he had acted correctly. It hurt to see Henry putting himself through this torment for so long. Yet, he knew exactly how easy it was to fall prey to those types of thoughts. "Then you did the right thing," Killian assured.

The boy's shoulders sagged with relief, but there was still a part of him that couldn't accept that it was that easy. "But I could have saved my mom. I could have changed her ending."

"At what cost, Henry?" Killian asked, watching how Henry studied his face like his mother did in order to see the truth in his words. "Could you have found the strength to give up that power once you used it? What happens during the next crisis, or the next? How long before you become the thing you swore not to be. Magic comes with a price, lad. You know that. And changing fate surely costs far more than you can pay. Your mother would not have wanted you to sully your soul to save her own."

When he was finished, Henry's entire countenance had changed. He seemed to accept what Killian had told him. He took several breaths, closed his eyes, and nodded to himself. "I know. You're right. But I can't help thinking about it, you know."

"Aye lad, I know all too well," Killian answered with complete sincerity.

Henry opened his eyes and stared back. He even gave him a small, watery smile. "Thanks, Killian."

Wanting nothing more at that moment than to pull the boy to his chest and squeeze him, he chose instead to ruffle the boy's hair, as he had seen his mothers do. But Killian could hear his voice crack as he answered him with a strained, "You are most welcome, Henry."

Henry blinked rapidly, and stepped away, looking past Killian towards the mountain. At first, Killian worried that he had overstepped his boundaries, but then Henry said, "You know, um, after all this is over, if you and my mom ever want to like, uh, move in together, or whatever, I'd be cool with that."

Incredibly touched, Killian asked, "Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah," Henry shrugged. He turned back and smiled easily, even though his cheeks were a bright red. "You're a pretty cool guy. And I know my mom loves you, and you love her, so…basically…yeah."

"Thank you," he said softly, nodding his head in a slight bow. "Your approval is important to me, lad, and I know it's important to your mother."

Henry let out a long breath, his gaze settling out into the far horizon, almost as if he was trying to picture Emma standing there. "I know she hesitates to take big steps sometimes. I know how scared she gets, but I think, deep down, she wants this. You just need to keep believing in her."

With uncharacteristic sincerity, Killian answered, "Believing in your mother is the easiest thing I've ever done. It's like breathing. In fact, it's almost as easy as believing in you." He finished with a toothy smile and slight nudge to the boy's shoulder.

Henry flushed bright red, as if unsure how to take the compliment. With a little cough, he squeaked out, "Okay, enough feels for now. How about we tackle this bad boy?"

He looked up. The path that had wrapped up and around the mountain like a silver ribbon was stretched out ahead. Narrowing as it rose, it was still a good two feet across with only a small lip on the edge preventing a person from falling off the side. Still it rose at an easy slope and there had been no major obstacles so far. Already they had come almost halfway up the side, passing the first ring of trees without even noticing. With any luck, the rain would hold off and they'd be at the top soon.

 _Emma we're coming._

Giving the boy a stunning grin, Killian waved his hook out in front of him and replied, "Aye, let's climb this bloody beast and find us a sorcerer!"

….

Just as Killian had feared, the storm hit just after dusk began, turning the dusty path into a loose, slippery muck. _Well,_ he thought morosely, _their good fortune was bound to end sooner or later._

Though they were so near the top he could practically taste it, he knew that the most dangerous part lay ahead and they would need to proceed carefully from this point on. Calling a halt to their journey before they lost the last of the sunlight, Henry scouted a narrow fissure in the mountain that was capped by a several fallen boulders, effectively making a cavern for them to take shelter. Henry scrambled in first, his head just barely clearing the underside of the stones and Killian followed, ducking down at the entrance and turning inside so that his leather coat absorbed the worst of the rain. An occasional strong gust of wind sent icy drop down the back of his neck and he wished he would have thought to change back into his pirate coat for this journey.

Henry, meanwhile, got to work bringing out their provisions and making a small fire out of the kindling they had gathered on the way up. Soon, there was a nice warm glow that helped to counteract the chill from the rain outside. Once their bellies were full, and their clothes and hair dry, they finally gave their sore muscles the chance to relax from the day's exertions. Henry spread out his travel cloak and his pack and stretched out along the rocky floor, while Killian stayed near to the entrance, his back propped up on the wall and his feet crossed in front of him. With the last of their fire dwindling to ash, they settled in for the night.

Henry dropped off first, his body not used to the type of exercise he had put it through that day. Killian stayed awake and alert for a while longer, listening to the rain beat down on the outside of their cave. His thoughts drifted from happy visions of the future, to painful reminders of the past, unable to latch on to any of them for any length of time. Perhaps it was exhaustion, perhaps just the nervous excitement of being so close to their goal, but whatever it was that was preventing him from mental rest was also keeping him from physical resting as well. The rain helped, though. The soothing pattern of drumming beats was a familiar friend from long days at sea. If there was one thing that he could always count on to soothe him, it was the water, in any form.

With the heavy drone of the storm in the background, soon his jumbled thoughts were washed away, like the rivulets of the rain, and he slumped over into a dreamless sleep.

…

Not long after, Henry stirred from his slumber. Sleeping on hard ground was a bad thing for his hurt shoulder, and the dull achiness was just irritating enough to keep him from sleep. After shifting around trying to find a more comfortable position, he quickly realized that falling back to sleep wasn't an option. Besides the pain in his arm, there was just too much on his mind. And most of it had to do with the dark shadow perched at the entrance to the cave.

In the rain-filtered moonlight, he could just barely see the outline of Killian's drooped head and the slow rise and fall of his chest. It was enough to let him know that he was deeply asleep, so Henry felt it safe to sit up. Watching him intently, a strange part of him had the sudden urge to awaken Killian and have him soothe away the aches by distracting him from his troubles. _Like a dad telling his son a bedtime story,_ his brain supplied randomly.

Chiding himself for being ridiculous, Henry settled himself into a more comfortable position against the side wall. It still afforded him the view of the pirate, and for some reason, it made his chest tighten strangely just knowing that Killian was (somewhat) standing guard.

As he tried to feel tired again, Henry found his unfocused thoughts dwelling on the man in question. It was the first time since they had begun this journey that he hadn't been thinking about his mom or about his secret fears that she might be gone forever. Replaying their conversations and the journey so far, hazy moments of their fight with the Manticore came back to him. He remembered how afraid he had been that Killian might be killed, worried when he saw the man injured on his behalf, how upset he had gotten when he had seen Henry injured. And still, he couldn't understand why he had done those things.

Maybe it was because Henry's experience with his moms' boyfriends was somewhat limited. Heck, his experience with having a father was somewhat limited. His dad was dead, and it totally sucked because he never got the chance to _really_ know him. Their time together was so limited, Henry had no idea if Neal would have been a good dad or not. From the little time they had spent together, he knew Neal was a pretty cool guy and a true hero in the end. But then there were the new memories from New York, where he had spent a year thinking that his dad was some jerk who had abandoned his mom, which was actually kind of true. So, yeah, he was a little bit conflicted about what kind of dad Neal would have turned out to be.

So that just left the role of Henry's dad to either his Grandpa David, or to his moms' boyfriends. And that had not always turned out so great.

First, there was Walsh. He had been alright, cool even (for an evil flying monkey sent to spy on them), but there was always something a bit forced about their interactions. It was like he was trying too hard to be Henry's friend, but wasn't truly interested in getting to know him. Looking back, it was clear he was only being nice out of obligation, out of an attempt to make his mother distracted, and, yeah, okay, maybe he wasn't really a good example of a role model.

Then there was Robin. He was pretty cool (he was _Robin Hood_ , after all), but he hadn't really been around for very long and he had his own kid (well, two kids, if you counted Zelena's baby) to worry about. But it was kind of nice to watch Roland and Robin interact, to see what having a dad was supposed to be like. However, it also was difficult. Sometimes, there was this small, petty part of him that was jealous of Roland, that he got to have a dad who always put him first, who cared for him in that special way that only dads can. Sometimes it was just hard to be around them.

Finally, there was Killian. He was so different from anyone else. He was intense in a way that almost frightening, and yet, Henry had never felt scared of the so-called villain. Theoretically, he knew Killian had done some pretty awful stuff, but so had his mom when she was the Evil Queen. And he wasn't even about to get started on his Grandpa Gold. If he had learned one thing in his thirteen years, it was that people could change. But that wasn't enough to explain why Killian felt so distinctive.

Maybe he was biased, because Killian had always treated him differently than anyone else. Ever since New York, the pirate had seemed to take a genuine interest in getting to know the real him. It never felt forced, or like it was something he did just to pacify his mom. Killian felt like a friend, like someone he could tell his secrets to or ask for advice and not have it be weird. And Killian never treated him like a child. He talked to him as if he was a peer, someone who he respected and admired. And that alone was enough to make his heart swell with affection, because even though everything was different now that the curse was broken, he still didn't really have friends. It was kind of hard when your family was always at the center of all the major magical madness happening around town. People tended to freak out a bit over that sort of thing.

So Killian was a great guy, and he would make a great dad, but did that mean that he wanted to be his dad? It was obvious that his mom and Killian were totally in love with each other, probably even True Loves, so it stood to reason that they would be together after all this was over. Maybe they would even move in together. Maybe get married (you know, someday far into the future, 'cause his mom tended to freak out when you mentioned the 'm' word). And now, thinking about it, Henry realized he was actually okay with that thought. Killian and his mom. Killian as his step dad. It could be cool. Killian was freaking Captain Hook, after all. He was ' _the'_ pirate. Who wouldn't think that was cool? He always told the craziest stories from his centuries on the sea. And he was so much fun to be around. (Watching him try to figure out the modern world was absolutely hilarious because he got so personally offended by everything, and then he would scowl and grumble and his mom would just look at him all warm and happy and….)

Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes closed and called up his most dearly held secret; his own happy ending. It was a future where everyone he loved was happy and together and all the battles were over. He pictured what it would be like to have Killian as a part of it. He could see teaching Killian video games and him teaching him to be a sailor (and possibly a pirate, but you know, the nice kind). Maybe he would go off to college and Killian would be there, teasing him about girls and his classes. Or maybe they'd all end up back in the Enchanted Forest and Killian and Gramps would argue over whether Henry should become a pirate or a prince.

There was no version where his mom and Killian weren't together. No version which Killian wasn't a part of his life. It was obvious now that Killian had become his family, even if they had never said anything directly. Any future without Captain Hook just…hurt.

But would he feel the same way? Henry wanted to believe that his actions on this trip meant more than just them being friends, but being a dad wasn't something Killian had ever talked about. Sure, Killian loved his mom, and Henry was pretty sure he liked Henry, but did that mean he could love him as a son?

Still confused, Henry felt a giant yawn overtake him. His eyes felt heavy and hard to keep open, but he fought against it for just a moment longer, wanting the sleeping figure of the pirate to be the last thing he saw. And just as sleep was claiming him, his thoughts settled, and his heart realized something his head should have long ago; it didn't matter what happened in the future, Killian would always be a part of it, because Henry already loved him like a father.

…

Coming awake with a start, the first thing Killian noticed (besides the horrible crick in his neck) was that it was still raining. The storm of the night before seemed to have passed, however, and now only a light drizzle remained. It would be a hindrance, and possibly dangerous, but provided the path remained as distinct as it had been, they should be able to make their way to the top.

He found that he was suddenly overcome with excitement. Today, they would find Merlin and he would tell them how to rid Emma of the darkness. Then all they would need would be a way to reach her and...

Quickly reigning in those thoughts, Killian struggled with the burgeoning sense of hope in his chest. He, of all people, knew what it was like to feel joyful only to have it dashed away. It wouldn't do to get carried away now, not when there were so many loose ends, so many ways things could go wrong.

And yet, as he watched Henry come awake beside him, Killian couldn't help the way his heart was soaring. The boy was giving him a strange, sleepy-eyed look that inexplicably made the backs of his eyes prickle. With a little cough, he turned and greeted Henry, who returned his 'morning' with a goofy grin and mussed hair that begged to be ruffled, and suddenly Killian felt as if he could float up the mountain of a pillow of air.

Maybe, just this once, he could let himself feel optimistic. Maybe a bit of hope was what they both needed.

After rolling up his cloak and securing his pack, Henry joined him, peering out the cave opening at the grey, cloudy skies. Even though his face scrunched up with displeasure, his eyes remained bright and twinkling, and Killian's breath caught by how much he reminded him of Emma. "Looks like we're going to be getting wet," he commented dryly.

Unable to speak for a moment, Killian could only nod. "Aye, but I'll wager it'll let up soon enough. How are you with having a bit of a swim in the meantime?"

"Okay," he replied, then narrowed his eyes at the rain. "Give me a minute," Henry said cryptically. Killian watched in wonder as Henry shuffled around in the narrow space, doing something with his pack and the thin blanket until a sort of hooded cloak emerged. He looked up, his deep brown eyes all aglow with pride.

Killian looked in wonder at the practical contraption Henry had come up with. "Well done, m'boy! You are every bit as clever as your mother, and then some."

"Do you want me to make one for you?" He asked.

Killian pondered his offer, but ultimately knew it would probably hinder him more than then help if he needed to use his hook arm. "I've spent a great deal of time at sea, lad. I assure you, a slight bit o' rain will not affect me."

"In my world, there's a superstition about melting in the rain," Henry chuckled. Then his grin spread wide. "Actually, I think it might have been started because that's how they defeated the Wicked Witch of the West in the book."

"Zelena?" Killian asked, thinking about how difficult she had proven to get rid of and all the trouble she had caused. "They melted her with water? Good lord, lad. If it was that easy why didn't—"

"No, not Zelena," Henry laughed, sticking his hand outside the cave and letting the water splash on it. "The witch from the book. It was a kid's story, you know. So dumping water on her was I guess supposed to be less scary than having Dorothy, the hero, who's just a little girl, run her through with a sword or something."

"You're world just seems to get stranger by the second."

Henry flicked some of the water at Killian's face, causing the man to scowl merrily. "You come from a land with magic, and you think my world is strange? Yeah, but I guess you're right. I mean, if I was looking at it from your perspective, I'd find airplanes and cars and smart phones pretty amazing, too. Huh. I've never really thought about how confusing everything must be for you."

Killian picked up his pack, securing it underneath his leather coat. "Well, lad, when you've been a pirate as long as I have, you learn to adapt rather quickly. Did I ever tell you that subterfuge is a particular skill of mine?"

The boy's eyes went wild. "No! Come on, tell me a story! I want examples."

"Perhaps another time." He made a gesture indicating that the boy should lead. Immediately, they were both doused with rain. Fortunately, the water wasn't horribly cold and after several minutes walking, it was already dwindling to a light drizzle.

The clouds hung thick around them and below them, wrapping them in a dense fog that made it seem like they were on an island in a grey ocean. At least the path was still visible, now rising a bit more sharply that they were past all the vegetation and quite near to the plateau at the top. Killian judged the rest of their journey up would take no more than two hours, give or take, and the hope in his chest was burning so bright, he felt as if he might catch fire.

Needing a distraction, he spoke to Henry, who was climbing in front of him, one hand resting on the strap of his bag and the other sliding along the rain slicked stone of the mountain side. Now that the rain was lessening, the only sound was their boots crunching and squelching the rocks on the path.

"How about you tell me a story, Author."

Henry looked back at him over his shoulder. "Alright. What kind of story?"

Killian bit his lip in an attempt to keep the ache for Emma in his heart from spilling from his lips and making him seem like complete love-struck fool. Instead, he offered the boy a slightly altered scenario. "How about the tale of a dashing pirate and his brave first mate and their quest to rescue a beautiful princess from the forces of darkness."

Henry turned his head solely in order to roll his eyes at him. "That's a bit cliché, don't you think. How about the tale of a brave and dashing young pirate captain and his surly older first mate rescuing the princess?" He teased.

"Oi, lad. Watch it," Killian growled, but couldn't manage to keep his face straight.

Henry spun and took a careless step forward. "I was just—"

And it was in that moment that the world shifted and broke apart. First, Henry's foot slipped on the loose, unstable ground. Then, his arms scrambled for purchase, finding none. Finally, in trying to correct himself, he somehow ended up falling to the ground, and toppling over the side.

"HENRY!" Killian screamed. Though Killian was only a short way behind him, he wasn't close enough to do more than grab the boy by the back of his make-shift cloak, while his hook anchored itself into the side of the mountain.

"Hang on, Henry. Don't let go!" He shouted, trying to balance both his weight and the boy's while attempting to find a way to get Henry on safe footing.

"I'm trying—"

But the balance was off, and the cloak was no substitute for a firm hold, so Henry ended up holding to the edge with his right arm, while his feet dangled in the air. With his other hand, he tried to reach around and grab hold of Killian's hand in order to secure the connection, but his arms weren't long enough and he could do little more than flail one-handed.

"Henry, hold on. Just hold on," Killian repeated, desperate to find a way to lift the boy up.

He grunted and tried to pull himself up. But the only sure hold he had was with his already sore arm and the extra weight was making the muscles twitch and ache. "I—I can't—"

"Nonsense, lad. You can do it." Killian was straining, his face red with the effort to drag the boy up, but between him trying to keep them anchored and also trying to fall of the side himself, no amount of strength could pull him up. "I just need you to climb up. Just a little bit, lad."

"I can't. My shoulder. I'm not strong enough." Henry looked up at him with wide, shame-filled eyes. Tears streaked down his cheeks, getting lost in the silver cloud-mist below.

"Just move a little at a time. Slowly. We'll do this together," Killian said, somehow keeping his voice calm despite the sheer terror that had taken over his body. He swallowed hard and stared into the boy's eyes, as if trying to will his own strength into him somehow.

Henry nodded and slowly tried to bring his free arm around in order to find another hold on the mountain. Killian whispered words of encouragement and did his best to hold steady while the boy moved.

And just as his fingers touched the surface, the rocks under his other hand gave way. With nothing left holding him except Killian's hand on the loose cloak, Henry slipped right out of cloth, and with a little yelp, was gone.

"HENRY! NO!" Killian screamed, his eyes and heart and brain all in denial.

Henry had fallen into the cloud ocean and had disappeared completely into the mist. Killian remained utterly frozen and in shock, but all too soon the reality of what had just occurred slammed into him and it was all he could do not to just loosen his grip and follow the boy into oblivion.

He shouted the boy's name over and over until his voice cracked and the tears in his eyes completely obscured his vision. Exhausted, he wiggled his hook loose, letting his body slip down to the ground, never taking his eyes off the place in the clouds where Henry had fallen through, as if somehow he might come bursting back up through them. His hand dug into the woolen fabric of Henry's cloak, pulling it close to him fiercely. His body shuddered violently as his soul screamed out, trying to reject the reality of what had occurred.

But he couldn't fight the truth forever, especially when every time his eyes slipped shut, he was forced to replay the pleading look in Henry's scared brown eyes over and over again. Henry was gone. How could he be gone? This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

He wanted to wail. He want to shout, to fight. But fight who? This was all his fault. Henry had been counting on him, but he had slipped from his grasp and fallen to his death. It had been his job to protect Henry, to guard him with his own life. He had made his family a promise. And he had failed. It should be him that fell. This was Henry's mission, not his. Henry was supposed to wake Merlin. He had been the one summoned. How could this have happened?

Oh god. His heart had never felt this broken. He doubted it would have hurt this much if the Crocodile had succeeded in crushing it. He felt an ache so incomprehensible, it left him just numb. Nothing felt real.

 _Maybe it wasn't real,_ he thought desperately, unable to stop the trace of hope as his heart latched on to anything that didn't involve Henry actually dying. Maybe this was all a horrible, vivid nightmare. Surely he would awake at any time.

Surely.

 _Wake up, Jones, damn you!_

Hours he sat there. Or days. He had no bloody clue. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. It was all over. Looking up, Killian saw the top of the mountain closer than he had realized. The goal they were so close to obtaining. Up there, lay the key to saving Emma. So close.

And yet…

What was the point, now? Even if he could find Merlin and save Emma, all he would be bringing her back to was a world in which her son was dead. And that he had been the one responsible. How could he even look at her? How could he face her?

His heart was torn. How could he even think about leaving Emma to the darkness? But how could he leave Henry? His (oh god) body was down there, somewhere. He needed to find it and bring him back home. He couldn't leave him here.

The choice before him was unthinkable. To continue on, find Merlin, and rid Emma of the darkness? Or to go back, find Henry, take his body back to his family? In his mind, his heart, and his soul, he knew there was really only one answer.

Slowly, Killian stood and began his descent.

…..

It was night by the time Killian made it back to one of the rings where the mountain levelled off. He found himself in a sparse forest of evergreens and other conifers that had managed to grow on the rocky ground. Everything inside him ached. His arms and legs, his head; but mostly his heart.

As the air about him changed, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. The small copse of trees he had entered grew thicker as he descended, and distantly, he could hear the steady noise of running water. Suddenly, his mouth felt extremely dry and he realized he had neither ate nor drank since that small alcove with Henry.

Henry. Who was gone. Lost. Whose body he was supposed to be searching for.

Stumbling over a fallen branch, he fell to his knees with a grunt. Suddenly, he had neither the strength nor the desire to get back up again. His thoughts turned dark, wondering why he didn't just stay here and let the wild take him.

Except, he knew he had a job to do. He needed to find Henry's body and return him to his family. There was no way he could leave him behind in this place. It might be his final act in the world, but it was least he could do.

So he focused on the sharp pain in his knees and used it to steady him, draw him back up and give him the push he needed to go on. He was so focused, in fact, that he failed to see the young man standing behind him, until he called out to him.

"Hello," he said, his voice calm and curious. Killian turned slowly, his bones and muscles protesting the movement. The dark-skinned young man had his arms full of sticks and branches, dressed plainly in a tunic and trousers. He wore a curious expression, and his eyes were warm.

Not that any of that mattered to Killian. "Sorry," he mumbled, hardly even aware of the words he was saying. "I didn't see you there. My apologies." After standing fully, he hung his head and began his trek once more to the source of the water.

"Hey, wait," he heard the man call after him. Turning his head slightly, he saw him running to catch up, the pile of sticks now slung over his back in a makeshift carrier.

"Look, lad. I'm in no mood for company. Please, leave me be."

The man met his eyes with a tense smile. "Very well, but I just thought you looked like you could use a little help."

Killian stopped walking with a long sigh. Running his hand through his hair, he shook his head. "I'm beyond all help, I'm afraid."

"Nonsense," the stranger said. "Everyone could use a bit of kindness." He pulled a water skin off his belt and handed it over, urging Killian to drink. With a clipped nod, Killian tilted the skin back and drank. The water was cool and quenched his parched throat, but it wasn't enough to bring him any real comfort.

The stranger took back his skin, and tilted his head, scratching at the eyebrow. "You look exhausted, friend. Not just the physical kind, but the kind where your whole being is empty. I know it's not much, but I have a cabin just a little way away, you are welcome there for a nice meal and some rest. I promise, I won't be a bother."

There was something infectious in the man's smile. It curved up at the corners and spread across his cheeks in a way that hinted that it held the answers to many secrets.

Unsure of the reason why, Killian heard himself say, "Very well, lead on."

….

Killian barely registered where his feet were taking him. He followed the man like a shadow moving not of his own will. Eventually, they arrived at a small wood cabin, set deep between the overhanging branches of a cluster of trees. It didn't matter to him. He could have been lead to the gates of hell and he would have stumbled through them without noticing or caring.

All he could think about was Henry.

"It will take me a while to get supper ready," the man said, the clattering of his kindling falling to the stone hearth causing Killian to startle. He glanced up to see the man arranging the sticks with his back to him and took the opportunity to look around. The cabin was sparse, housing only a couple benches piled high with quilts and pillows, a wooden table topped with various edibles, and the giant stone fireplace.

Without turning, the man called out, "Out back and down the path, there's a small fresh water pond. I've heard that the waters have the ability to cleanse and replenish the soul. I don't know if that's true, but a nice bath never did anyone any harm. Go ahead and wash and I'll have everything ready when you return."

Something about the man left no room for argument, and as heart-sick as Killian was, he never thought to question it. As he turned back to the door to leave, some small part of him remind him that it was bad form to be so ungracious, no matter the reason. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice scratching its way out. "Though, I'm afraid I didn't catch your name, lad."

Dusting off his hands, the man stood up and strode over to the table to gather up some of the food. "Oh, that's alright, you seemed to have more important things on your mind," he said in an easy manner. He looked up, then, and smiled again. "It's Emrys, by the way."

With a shaky nod, Killian replied, "Thank you, Emrys. I shall return shortly." He turned and exited, his feet leading him again into the night.

The man's smile fell as he watched Killian leave, and a heavy sadness replaced the warm glow of his dark eyes. "Take all the time you need, Captain."

…

Killian stumbled his way through the brush. Even though the path to the pond was marked clearly enough, he just didn't have the strength to keep going. And yet, his feet kept mindlessly moving on, unaware that they were propelling a mere shell of a man. Somehow, he found himself standing at the edge of the most beautiful pool of water he had ever seen. The light from the full moon was so bright it cast the entire pool in a wash of silver light. A thick wall of mossy trees surrounded the pool, providing more than adequate privacy. With numb fingers, he made quick work of the buttons of his vest and shirt, his boots and pants following soon after. Within moments, he stood along the bank, his clothes in a neat pile on top of a small boulder. All that remained was his brace and hook.

He lifted the self-made contraption up, noting the toll the long years had taken on not only the leather, but the flesh underneath. Scarred and stretched from years of use, his skin would forever bear the sins of his past. Even were he to never wear the brace again, the marks left would never fully fade. His thoughts drifted again towards Emma and he prayed to any god that would listen that she would be spared from having the scars of darkness tattooed on her soul like they had been left on him.

The curved edge of his hook catching the moonlight and bouncing it into his eyes. How many times had he done this? How many times had he stared at his hook with disgust and distaste. Never before, though, had he felt this sort of repulsion to it, this visceral loathing for the symbol of his vengeance. When had Killian Jones become nothing more than a piece of metal? And when it truly mattered, it wasn't enough. He wasn't enough of a man to keep Henry safe. To keep Emma safe. He wasn't strong enough to hold on. What good was a man with a hook for a hand when he kept failing to save those he loved? With a shuddering sigh from the deepest caverns of his soul, he reached over and began to unfasten the straps one by one, letting the brace and hook fall to the ground with a heavy thump.

Stepping away, he slipped his feet into the cool water. It was warmer than he had anticipated and he descended down into it quickly, paddling away from the shore and floating about in the middle of the pond. The water felt good and refreshing, the tension in his muscles relaxing as he leaned back and looked at the sky above through the canopy of trees.

There were no stars in the realm. Just the moon, but it was twice the size it was in Storybrooke, even at its zenith. Henry would have loved this view. He would have peppered him with a thousand questions about what the moon looked like in different realms, or what it was like to see it rise on the ocean.

Unexpectedly, he felt a sudden warmth on his cheeks, and he lifted a hand out of the water to find that he was crying. It all seemed to hit him then, at once, and the small silent stream turned into a river of pain and anguish. A heart-wrenching wail worked its way from the pit of his soul and forced itself violently out of his throat.

 _I am so sorry. Henry. So sorry. Emma. I have failed you both. I am nothing._

If it hadn't been for the need to return Henry back home, he would have slipped under the water and never resurfaced. As it was, he dipped under, letting his tears and his sorrow get lost in the oblivion of the water. When at last the need for air became too great, he broke to the surface.

Drawing a great breath and then slowly exhaling, suddenly, he noticed he felt different. The horrible ache in his chest was gone. He breathed in again, and that squeezing sensation he had felt ever since Emma had disappeared was all but gone. It was like he could draw breath again for the first time.

He was overcome by a sense that something had changed. Perhaps he had finally released the grief that had been pent up in his soul for so long. He still ached for Henry and was worried for Emma, but those feelings seemed muted, less acute. How was this possible?

Stretching out his arms, he swam quickly back to the shore line, rising up out of the water and letting the warm night air dry him. As he looked down to find his clothes, he noticed something was amiss. Gone were his black shirt, vest, and pants. In their place, was a white shirt and vest, identical to his own in every way except the color. His black jeans were now a pair of soft tan pants and his boots were nowhere to be found. Having no choice but to don the new clothes or go naked, he quickly dressed in the unfamiliar colors. Surprisingly, the fabrics were soft and warm, and he was hit with a sudden flash of memory of his days as a lieutenant. That was the last time he had worn such colors, and putting them on again made him feel both nostalgic and unworthy.

His brace and hook were lain nearby, and for a moment he hesitated to put them back on. His thoughts about the hook were still unresolved, but, for better or worse, the hook was a part of him and always would be. He couldn't leave it behind.

Trekking back through the woods in nothing but his bare feet, Killian pondered at the change in his heart. He had no way to explain what he felt, other than to compare it to the moment he first realized he could let go of his grief for Milah and find love again. Was that what had happened? Had he let go of his grief? He knew he wasn't ready to move on, or that he had found something that gave him hope, but the emotion was the same. How could that be?

Killian smelled the food before the cabin came into view and his stomach growled loudly in anticipation. For the first time, he wondered if it was the young man, Emrys, who had exchanged his clothing while he had been underwater. It was the only way he could explain it. For a moment, he wondered about whether the young man had witnessed his break down, but he found that for now, he didn't really care. It was as if all his emotions, good and bad, were dulled.

The man greeted him at the door with another mysterious smile. "Ah! Captain, I see you the water has done its job. You look a bit more refreshed."

Killian plucked at the white shirt, and yet followed him inside anyway. "What is this, lad? Why did you take my clothes?"

Waving his hand towards a table with heaping bowls full of stew, and plates of berries and bread, he said, "Have a seat, Captain. I'm sure you must be hungry. I'll be glad to talk while you eat."

Killian collapsed into a chair, his body so very weary, and took stock of the feast spread before him. Emrys joined him a second later and started by grabbing a warm roll for himself. Killian followed suit, but ate slowly and carefully. "Very well, talk. Where are my clothes?"

"Those are your clothes," Emrys replied, his eyebrow arched as he pointed at Killian's garments with his spoon. "Just like the rest of you, they had been washed clean."

There was something strange about this man, but Killian couldn't place it. All his usual anger and self-preservation instincts felt off. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" He frowned, staring hard at the dark-skinned man across from him. What was going on? Did this strange man do something to him? Why didn't he feel like himself?

There was something calm in the man's gaze, but it did little to reassure him, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that there was some strange force at work. Something he had missed. Something obvious.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Captain. The waters I sent you to have healing properties, just as I said. The reason you feel so strangely is because they have helped ease away your pain. And you, Captain, have had more than your share of pain. In fact, it is one of the main reasons you're here."

Then it all slotted into place. How had he not seen it before? The man had known who he was, had appeared on the mountain from nowhere. It was obvious now who he was talking to. "I suppose that means you are Merlin."

The sorcerer gave Killian a solemn little bow with his hand over his heart. "It would appear so."

Anger, deep fire and rage bubbled up inside him where only moments before was nothing. "What good are you as a ruddy sorcerer if you can't save the life of an innocent child? Don't you have magic?" He shouted.

Merlin stood, holding his hands out gently. "Calm down, Killian. Please. I will explain everything."

Needing answers more than vengeance at this particular moment, Killian managed to collect himself and sat back down at the table. Beside him, the bowl of stew began to swirl and cast a golden glow. "What the devil?"

The contents of the bowl were suddenly gone, replaced by an image of Henry, sleeping quite peacefully aboard his ship. His heart leapt at the sight, filled with a joy that he immediately pushed away. He couldn't allow himself to hope. Not yet. Not until he knew the truth of what he was seeing. "What manner of trickery is this?"

The man's gaze remained as calm and open as always. "Exactly as you asked. It's Henry. He's alive and well and perfectly safe aboard your ship."

"If this is a trick-"

Merlin leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "I assure you, it is no trick. Perhaps there was a bit of subterfuge involved in his 'death,' but Henry was never in any danger."

Henry was alive? He hadn't fallen to his death? How? His mind reeled with questions and with the sudden influx of emotion. Part of him wanted to leap out of the chair and race back to his ship. But there was still some sort of rational part in him that reminded him that he still needed Merlin's help with Emma.

Merlin. Now that the shock was wearing off and he felt much more himself, Killian stopped to ponder the type of man he was dealing with. On the surface, he had been nothing but kind and (somewhat) open. But what kind of person would resort to this level of cruelty in order to make a point? Maybe he was no different than any other sorcerer, playing mind games and using him as a pawn.

Killian crossed his arms over his chest, his hook on full display. Now that the reality of Henry not being dead was starting to hit him, he felt his anger coming back in full force. "So what do you want, Sorcerer. Why play games like this? Will you help or not?"

Merlin looked up, chagrinned, but only slightly. "I am sorry that I had to do that to you, Killian. I know how deeply loss affects you. But there was simply no other way. I had to make sure."

Jaw clenching, Killian seethed. "Make sure of what?"

Merlin sat back in his chair, seemingly unmindful of the rising emotion from the pirate. "You heard my story, did you not?"

Killian nodded. He recalled the story Nimue had told them about how Merlin had tried to destroy the darkness only to become the Dark One instead.

"Do you know why I failed?" Merlin asked.

"I assume because the darkness was too strong. Even for you," Killian added with a smirk.

Merlin smiled at that. "Yes, partially. The real reason was that I was wrong about myself. I thought my heart was big enough, that it was full of enough love to overcome that evil. But I am, after all, just a man," he said, as he gave a very purposeful look to Killian. "And no mere man, or woman, will ever be strong enough on their own."

Killian's heart fell. "What are you saying? Is there no hope for Emma?"

Merlin stood, his presence growing larger in the room than Killian had anticipated. He could sense the great power the man wielded and for a moment, he feared what he was about to say. "Don't worry, Captain, there is hope, there is always hope. There is a way to save your Emma, it's taken me centuries, but I finally found a way. And it lies with you."

Him? How was that possible? It was Henry who had been called here. How could he save Emma? "What?"

Merlin paced the floor in front of the hearth, his hands clutched behind his back. "This, all this, was a test. Not for Henry. For you. You see, Captain Jones, you are really quite remarkable. Your heart, your ability to love is…" he scratched his brow with his finger, and gave a slight chuckle, "well, I don't think I've seen its like."

Killian balked, pushing over the chair in his haste to put some distance between himself and the obviously deranged sorcerer. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? I was a villain, mate. Pretty sure that my heart's been just as full of darkness as love."

"But don't you see?" Merlin exclaimed, turning to look at him with a fire dancing in his deep black eyes. "That's exactly it! You became a villain because you experience heartache so profoundly, that it drives everything you are. Three hundred years, Captain. You carried that anger in your heart for three hundred years. It would have destroyed a lesser man."

Killian shook his head. "It very nearly did destroy me. It was only Emma—"

Merlin closed the space between them with only a couple long-legged strides. "And that's my point," he grinned, poking the pirate right in his chest. "You found love again. You opened up your heart and let it heal all those years of pain. And when you made up your mind, you committed yourself to your love with all that you had."

His head was spinning. Very little the man had said was making any sense to him. "What's all this about, then? Why all this nonsense?" Killian demanded.

Seeing that he was pushing too hard, Merlin toned down his excitement and retreated back a distance. "I needed you to come here, with Henry, because I needed your heart as full as it could be. The quest was always about you and your bond with the boy. You love him, do you not, like a son?"

"Aye," Killian readily admitted. There was never any real denying of that fact, even if he had never admitted it out loud.

Merlin hummed and nodded, clasping his hands together. "That's why I had to break your heart. One last time," he said softly. Then his whole manner shifted, a sadness overcame his eyes and he put a hand on Killian's shoulder. "I'm sorry for that, though. Truly. But I needed your heart empty for what comes next."

At that moment, Killian didn't care how sorry the man was, he had very nearly been driven mad with grief. He had believed Henry to be dead. He had been used and toyed with by someone with power yet again. He was tired of being nothing more than pawns in these people's games. Tired of being a slave to the whims of those with more power. "You played with my emotions! You made me think I had failed Henry, that he was lost to me forever? How dare you!"

At least Merlin had the decently to look properly apologetic. "I'm sorry captain. I am. But it had to be done."

Killian growled, his jaw muscles working away as he tried to refrain from slitting the man's throat or doing some other sort of action that he would probably regret later. "You say that, but you have no idea what it felt like. You have no idea what it is like to have your heart ripped from you and torn apart, again and again."

Merlin's eyes fell, the fire behind them snuffed out. "I know that, Captain. That's why you are the only one who can do this."

"Do what, exactly?" Killian asked determinedly. He approached the Sorcerer, placing his hook right on the man's chest. "No more games. Tell me what you want from me."

Merlin lifted his face and locked eyes with him. Ancient and deep as the darkest part of the night, Killian could the magic swirling behind them filling air again. His hair stood up on his neck, but he knew he couldn't back down.

"I want you to destroy the Dark One. Forever."

…..

Falling. He was falling into the air, his stomach feeling like it was doing that weird flip-flop thing you get on a roller-coaster. Intense fear and confusion, all rolling around together. Soon, though. Soon he would crash, and that would be it. Game over. The end. Goodbye.

His mind wheeled and spun, like his body, with images of all those he would leave behind. Archie, the dwarves, Belle, Grandma and Grandpa and baby Neal, Robin and Roland. His moms. Killian.

Now, something was happening. The air thickened around him. The roaring in his ears getting stronger.

This was it.

Henry Mills was going to die.

Wind rushed by him, feathering his hair and clothes. His body felt oddly heavy as if it were being pulled down instead of floating. His heart raced as he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut to not see the approaching ground.

Then, his stomach flipped again, making him feel dizzy and out of sorts. And he turned—

And met the hard wooden floor of the Jolly Roger.

Henry sucked in his breath, opening his eyes one at time at the bright sunlight pouring in through tiny ship windows. _What the-?_

He was alive. He was back at the ship, in his cabin, his legs and feet tangled in the sheets. Was it all a dream? Did he have a nightmare or something?

Patting himself down quickly, he checked himself for injuries. There was a bruise on his elbow from falling out of the bunk, but other than that, he was completely fine. Maybe it was just a dream, a really, really strange vivid dream.

Henry threw off the sheets, trying to force his wobbly legs to stand, when all of a sudden, the door to the crew quarters flung open with a loud bang.

"HENRY!" Killian shouted, running across the room and scooping him up into his arms without warning.

It felt like the pirate was trying to squeeze the life out of him, and there was a slight tremble in his arms as he clung to him. _What was he doing? This was so weird._ Yet, Henry found himself clinging back just as hard, as a warmth surged through his heart.

"I thought I had lost you," he heard Killian whisper, an oddly pained note in his voice.

So, it hadn't been a dream, after all. He had fallen and now he was…back on the Jolly? How?

"I don't understand. What happened? Why am I here?" Henry asked, pulling back. Killian immediately let him go, and Henry felt his legs give out under him as he fell back onto the bunk with a whoosh. His thoughts and emotions were completely scattered, but he didn't miss the way Killian was staring at him. There were actual tears in the man's eyes. Not sadness. There was no real sadness there, just relief and joy.

Henry was glad to see him too.

Killian sighed, his intense stare softening into a wide, happy grin. "Merlin. It was all Merlin."

Henry's mouth fell open. "Wait. You found him? You met Merlin? _The_ Merlin. Does that mean he'll help us? Tell me everything!"

Killian gave a quick chuckle, but turned his head. "Aye, lad, but it's quite the tale. All you need to know right now, though is that he's given me what we need to help your mom be rid of the Darkness."

 _Okay, something's up with him_ , Henry thought. _He's being a cagey and mysterious._ _What is he hiding?_ He studied the man closely, but Killian merely turned back with another blinding smile, whatever secrets he was keeping now locked away. Besides, Killian's joy was more than a little bit infectious. "Now, I'd say we've kept her waiting long enough. Ready to go home, lad?"

Killian was right. Secrets could wait, but his mom couldn't. Pumping his hand in the air, Henry jumped from the bed and rushed out the door. Halfway up the stairs, he called back after the pirate who was still standing at the doorway wearing a stunned expression. "Well, what are you waiting for, Killian? An engraved invitation? Let's go get my mom back!"

* * *

 **A/N- Fun fact: My original version ended right after Henry fell. I thought that a cliffhanger like that might be a tad too much, so I cut most of the Merlin convo instead. It will be shown in the next chapter though. There should only be one, maybe two, chapters left. We are almost done, and I will do whatever I must to get it finished soon! Don't forget, I'd really love to hear from you, too? What did you think?**


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